


Emissaries

by dante0220



Series: Divides Crossed [17]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Assemblies, Deceit, F/M, Gen, escalating tensions, pleas for aid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-08-25 06:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 29,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16656070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dante0220/pseuds/dante0220
Summary: Following the aborted tour of Nemeth and Gedref, tensions continue to rise.  Gwen learns more about Avalon, magic and Arthur's situation.  Merlin tries to learn statecraft from Rodor and Mithian.  Meleagant and the Sorceress meet with their allies.  Meantime the arrival of a mysterious ruler from the east brings Britannia and the continent to the meeting table.  Where will this lead?  R & R!





	1. A Simple Dinner?

**Author's Note:**

> Merlin and his cohorts (at least from this version) belong to the BBC and Scyfy. These notes will be updated as other characters jump into the mix.

Chapter 1 [Camelot—A Few Hours Following the End of “Survey”]

 _Gloom’s_ cloud hung low over the walled city. Hammers seemed to bang with less intensity against forges’ anvils. The townspeople shuffled almost as if sleepwalking through their affairs. Merchants accepted the first offer from a customer rather than the usual haggling. Foot traffic declined. 

While essential affairs continued onward, Neglect dampened resolve. Details slipped through the cracks. And even those whose success depended on such things couldn’t see their affairs fraying right under their eyes…..

 

****

 

[Royal Dining Room]  
[A/N: Unless otherwise noted, the Arthur mentioned here is the imposter.]

Arthur leaned back in the varnished oaken chair. The meal of venison and potatoes satisfied him. Remembering the Sorceress’ advice/threat, he wiped the remaining gravy from his mouth. He placed his hand in front of his mouth before belching. Then he sipped rather than gulped from his goblet. “Wine to your liking?”

Gwen nodded. She sipped from her own goblet. “Master Rudolph outdid himself this year.” She looked to the servant waiting on their next request. “Might I have my glass refilled please?”

Arthur bristled. He’d expected the servant to notice the glass being half-empty and deal with it accordingly. 

“It’s all right.” She reassured her King. Then she held her goblet up. “I appreciate it.”

“My apologies, Queen Guinevere.” The young red haired steward locked his arms ahead of himself. He tipped the wine vessel. His wine sloshed ever so slightly in her goblet. Still it didn’t spill over the sides. Unlike George, he knew when to stop the effort. “Please let me know when you need more, Milady.”

“That’s great, Philip. Thank you.” She smiled at the steward. “This wine goes well with the venison.”

“I’m glad you like it, Gwen.” Arthur relaxed. Approval warmed his heart. He’d certainly come to understand Arthur’s feelings for her. “I’ve sent Michel on the hunt for quail. I remember how you like that.”

“Arthur, you’re going to make me fat yet.” She giggled and drank from her wine. While she knew that the person across the table from herself was an imposter, she kept up the act. She pushed her chair back. 

“Nothing but the best for you, Gwen. Even that steward seems to know that at least. That’s unlike certain other ingrates.” Arthur curled his lip and shook his head.

She sighed. Even if names weren’t mentioned, she could well imagine that the reference pertained to a certain prince of Nemeth. “Arthur, we’ve been over this. Merlin more than deserves his title and place in Nemeth. We’re happy together. Aren’t we?”

“I couldn’t be happier save in your company.” _Ardor_ burned brightly in his eyes.

Her smile increased. _Why does he have to be so nice? I know he isn’t Arthur but still…._ “All right then. We’re good. Lancelot’s happy with Lady Elaine. Why can’t Merlin be happy? He and Mithian certainly do as much for each other.” 

“Aye. They seem to. Still….” Arthur cut off his reply at her narrowed eyes. “Perhaps we might move on then? We could take a walk?”

“I do have the seamstress to visit. Mariah injured herself. I hoped to deliver some cheer to her. Perhaps though we might postpone that until tomorrow?” She wiped her own mouth off. 

While he didn’t recall any particular seamstress by that name, Arthur nodded. “Of course! We’ll do that. I’ll have George make us a picnic feast.”

“That would be splendid! Thank you!” She nodded to him and then departed the area.

Arthur slid his goblet across to the steward. “More wine!” Then his eyes looked about the chamber.

Life did seem good at that point…..

 

****

 

Gwen hustled down several side corridors. Every so often, she’d look over her shoulder. She hated to lie to the troll. Her heart ached knowing that deception deserved deception. Still, even if he was the Sorceress’ tool, he was trying to be nice. She hadn’t experienced any real threats to her person or even aspersions against herself. 

Quite the contrary in fact….

She slipped into a nearby storage chamber and shut the door behind herself. Then she waved her hands.

Somehow mists filled the chamber spiriting her away.

 _Deception_ , it seemed, did merit _Deception_ ….


	2. Assumptions Dealt With

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen wonders about the state of things. She's receives insight into wider matters and sees the cost of the Pendragons' policies.

Chapter 2 [Avalon]

Gwen sat on a grassy bank. In front of her, the lake extended as far as the eye could see. Cranes strutted along the edges. Ducks and geese alighted on the placid water stirring the surface for a few heartbeats. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves in the adjacent oaks along the water’s edge. Everything seemed calm…

…almost like being within a glass bubble…

She sighed. _Worry_ nagged at her. In spite of _Illusion’s_ reassurances to the contrary, she recalled well the Outer World’s troubles at that moment. Camelot’s fortunes sank. Good people left the citadel seemingly on a daily basis. Meleagant and his allies threatened Britannia’s peace. _Prejudice_ reared its ugly head against Merlin despite his elevation to royal status. And then the imposter ruled in Arthur’s place.

_Arthur…._

_Where is he?_ She bit her lip. After regaining Camelot, there’d been no invasions. Arthur had remained largely by her side or around the knights. Save for a few overnight patrols, he hadn’t left the citadel. Still he’d begun his unusual behavior after Helios’ defeat. _Vengeance_ and _Hate_ took hold on him. He seemed to ally with those who’d merited his opposition. He turned on those who didn’t merit it. She still couldn’t believe he’d treated Merlin and Josiane as he had. At least not until she listened to _Suspicion’s_ whispers….

…the real Arthur…her Arthur… of course wouldn’t treat anyone so crassly…

_Morgana wouldn’t have left him somewhere. She’d have wanted to rub Arthur’s nose in the mess. That witch that nearly killed her, Merlin and Mithian then? Who is she?_ Her breath caught in her throat. _What has she done with Arthur? Who is that imposter?_ She cast a stone across the water’s surface. Her eye watched it skip three times across the liquid’s surface. She shook her head. _I’m definitely out of practice._

“Now I know you’re nervous, Gwen.”

She stiffened. She slowly stood and turned to find Morgana watching her in turn. “Morgana! You startled me. What are you doing here?”

“Nimue told me she’d brought you here. I decided to check on you. Accolon trains with the priestesses,” Morgana explained.

Gwen nodded. She could accept that much of the explanation at least. Still she needed to know. “So did you take Arthur somewhere?”

“What? I didn’t have a chance!” Morgana coughed. “As far as I knew, he and you were in the citadel’s dungeon. The mystery witch, whoever she is, must have switched him for the imposter.”

“And you don’t know who she is?” Gwen attempted to modulate her voice. Still Frustration pushed an edge into her tone. 

“None of us do. Not even the triple goddess can trace her movements, Gwen. Given that, do you think I can? She ambushed Merlin and me. That’s not an easy feat…even if his head is up his arse at times.” Morgana rolled her eyes.

“He has multiple responsibilities, Morgana. Cut him some slack,” Gwen defended.

“So do we all. Self-awareness is a vital thing.” Morgana sucked in a calming breath. “I was sent to bring you back.”

“Bring me back? Back to where? I thought I was supposed to be here for now,” Gwen pointed out.

“For the time being. There’s news on multiple fronts. With Arthur missing, you are Camelot’s real ruler. Would you accompany me back to the village? We should both hear this,” Morgana urged. She opened a portal. “Short cut?”

“Aye. I wish to hear this news as soon as possible.” Gwen offered a smile. “Thank you, Morgana. I’m still…getting used to this.”

“I am too. We should help each other though.” Morgana ushered her through. Then she stepped into the mists and vanished therein.

 

****

 

[Temple]

Gwen stepped out of the mists. She shivered ever so slightly. She stiffened upon seeing the triple goddess, Freya and Nimue. “I wasn’t expecting this. I’m sorry. Where are we?” She remembered to curtsey before the goddess.

_You are in my sanctuary, Guinevere of Camelot._ The goddess considered her for a few heartbeats. _You have questions._

“With due respect, Milady, she adjusts to being in your presence,” Morgana interceded.

_She both fears and respects my presence. She should do so. Please, Guinevere, ask me what you will._

Gwen nodded. Granted she wanted to demand Arthur’s location. Still _Restraint_ prompted against that. “I fear for King Arthur’s safety. Camelot and I need him desperately.”

_Aye you do. Pity he has followed his sire’s example. He leads you all against me,_ the goddess responded. _As long as one respects me, I can tolerate other paths. Arthur has shown such tendencies over the years._

Gwen narrowed her eyes. “He humbled himself after both of the occasions you’re raising. Our subjects are of diverse faiths. We can’t….”

_You would cast down my temples and shut out my assistance? Crimson_ burned in the goddess’ eyes. _And yet you would demand of me such things?_

“Queen Guinevere, please.” Freya frowned. She understood _Desperation’s_ role in Gwen’s attitude. Still she couldn’t allow their visitor to act in such ways. “If you will not follow her, how do you expect her protection, guidance or aid?”

“This isn’t a game! Camelot needs its king! I’ve been dealing with an imposter. Meantime we’re watching our enemies rise up and….” Gwen started to respond.

_Nay it is not. You however DO NOT DEMAND OF ME! You are here due to the prayers of Emrys, Mithian and the priestesses around us. If Arthur Pendragon and you wish to lead Camelot down the false path, so be it. You will do so without my aid, Guinevere of Camelot. Behold what happens now. Behold the anarchy._ The goddess waved her hand before the misty view portal in front of herself.

An image slowly came into focus. Knights in unfamiliar tunics stood side by side with olive-featured warriors bearing scimitars against dark skinned warriors in some place with unfamiliar vegetation. The image blurred. When it refocused, she beheld King Bors, his son, Leon and Elyan fighting alongside thousands of other knights in a great battle. Then the image reformed again to show the aforementioned nobles with one of the first image’s unfamiliar warriors approaching Nemeth’s citadel.

_Behold the price of impetuousness. Those are your enemies united. I cannot find the witch who unites them. It is she—not Meleagant nor the usurpers against Josiane or her brother. Emrys must understand his role. He must bridge the sorcerer with the ruler. For too long he has allowed comfort to rule himself. Now he must assume his full mantle._

Gwen swallowed hard. She stared at the visions in front of herself. “Elyan? What happened?”

_He is alive. The battle, as you have seen, has already taken place. Soon the invaders will land on Albion’s shores unless they are stopped. To do so, there are those who must step up for the greater good. There are others who must support them and serve their part in the Greater Good. You all must stand together. The goddess waved her hand again closing the portal. I require time. Morgana, perhaps you might escort Guinevere to Tintagel?_

“I shall indeed.” Morgana bowed to the deity.

“Wait. We have to do something! Surely you can….” Gwen insisted.

_I could do something. Right now I trust that all parties will play their respective parts in this drama. Perhaps you might consider the other path beyond what the Pendragons would follow. Perhaps that will save you all yet. Go now,_ the goddess dismissed.

Before any further reply could come from Gwen, Morgana enveloped them both in mist sweeping them back toward Tintagel.

_Such is the game. How I wish I could find that Sorceress._ The goddess turned to find Gwen stepping back into the chamber…or rather what seemed like Gwen. _How are events in Camelot?_

“Gwen” murmured a Celtic chant. Her appearance shimmered in the torchlight revealing Ninane underneath. She curtseyed. “Milady, the troll follows his mistress’ commands. He stirs up rebellions throughout Camelot and Gedref against our allies. He has doubts however.”

_Doubts? Explain,_ the goddess insisted.

Ninane sighed. “The troll loves Queen Guinevere as if he was the genuine Arthur Pendragon. He is still loyal to the Witch. Still he has those feelings.”

_So our mysterious adversary can’t control her tool. Can she? Perhaps that in itself will prove valuable. Thank you, Ninane. Return to your post. I do not wish him to become suspicious of your absence,_ the goddess observed.

Ninane bowed. She reapplied the cloaking spell. Then she vanished back into the mists.

The goddess rubbed her chin. _Hope_ laid now in certain people stepping up….

…if only they could believe in themselves for that matter….


	3. Merlin's Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin deals with his self-doubt. Rodor and Mithian offer supportive lectures.

Chapter 3 [Nemeth—Garden]

Merlin brooded amidst the floral lined paths. _Responsibility_ sagged down on his shoulders. He rubbed his forehead trying to lessen the dull ache therein. His mind bounced between several priorities. The royal cases overwhelmed him with their detail. Gawain, Lancelot, Galahad and Ywain were off at their respective estates. _Prejudice_ both from the recent expedition and even with the capital’s walls irritated him.

Sometimes life seemed simpler as a servant. Even when he was hiding his magic, he didn’t have to deal with the looks or attention. He just tidied Arthur’s chambers. He brought the meals upstairs (even if he had to deal with Audrey in the process). He’d retreat to the Physician’s chambers to mix up a tincture for Gaius.

Aye it seemed easier. Trouble is Life never did leave him alone.

_How does Mithian keep it all straight?_ He sniffed a rose hoping the scent would ease his mind. Alas it failed in that purpose. He frowned. 

_Keep what straight, my Prince?_

He sighed. _Sorry. I was just trying to deal with things. I keep forgetting you can hear me._

_Your mood is very clear to everybody, Merlin. How many times do we keep telling you that you aren’t alone?_ she reminded him.

_I’m still adjusting, Guess it’s easier being beside the throne than on it…even if it’s the Prince’s throne?_ he supposed.

_The throne—any throne—carries that kind of adjustment with it. Consider Arthur’s burden. We’ve seen how the burden has changed him. Morgana’s desire corrupted her. One has to be strong and yet compassionate. As you observed before, we serve others before ourselves. Still we have to remain strong in all regards. You’re further along than you know,_ she assured him.

_Really? Mood_ lightened ever so slightly.

_In spite of the rough edges, aye,_ she teased.

He rolled his eyes knowing that he should have prepared himself for that comment. _I’ll remind you of that the next time you go hunting._

She snorted. _Balance, my Prince. Father and I are in the council chamber. Why don’t you join us? He might have some advice in this regard._

_I’ll do that. Thank you,_ he expressed. _Be there soon._

_I’ll be waiting,_ she concluded.

He nodded more to himself than the assessment. _Guess I should have more confidence. It just seems so overwhelming._ He sucked in a deep breath and headed for the passage arch.

Time to get some more insight…..

 

**** 

 

[Council Chamber]

Mithian peered out the window. Her eyes surveyed the meandering puffy clouds chasing each other across the robin’s egg blue sky. She felt the breeze caress her cheeks. Her ears could almost hear said wind’s rustling the tree tops along the forest’s edge. Much as with Merlin, _Concern_ weighed on her mind and heart. She’d wanted to enjoy a lengthy honeymoon. She’d hoped for some time with her Prince to ease him into his new role.

_Merlin…._

_He shouldn’t have to feel inferior._ She rubbed her arms. Her mouth curled into a deep frown. Outrage over the Gedref subjects’ reactions toward magic burned withn her heart. _Uther’s poison spreads. How can Merlin still doubt himself? He’s amazing as a diplomat. He gives so much._ She shook her head.

“Mithian? Is something troubling you?” Rodor handed her a refilled wine goblet.

“Hmm? Father, I’m fine. I was considering Merlin’s idea about the border tavern with Tintagel,” she replied half-truthfully. She accepted the goblet from him. “Thank you.” She sipped from it. 

“I thought Queen Morgana and King Accolon agreed with you both on the location?” he presumed. 

“Aye. They have indeed.” She cut her response off. She wanted to wait for Merlin before broaching the request for advice. Even if she knew her father wouldn’t see it that way, _Hesitation_ held her back. 

“But Merlin second guesses himself perhaps?” Rodor observed her shoulders tense. “He still has doubts?”

“About himself.” She bowed her head. “For such a powerful sorcerer, Merlin has no confidence in himself. It’s infuriating! I try to be patient but….”

Rodor nodded. “You don’t understand why he can’t jump in as you did? Mithian, you were the exception and not the rule. While Merlin has the abilities and capabilities, remember, he was raised as a serf and servant. His role was to follow and obscure himself. Yours is to lead and now to teach.” He glanced toward the passage to see the Prince in question waiting in the door. “Merlin? Please join us.”

“Sire, Mithian.” Merlin offered them a bow. “I was just pondering some things.” His fingers slid across one of the chairs’ wooden armrests.

“And doubting yourself, I imagine?” Rodor presumed. “Merlin, if I may, I wish you’d learn to be patient with yourself. You’re no different than any of us. Some things such as your magic you excel at. You’ve already shown leadership, initiative and diplomacy. I’ve heard of your role in keeping matters under control in Ralston. You’ve recruited worthy members to the court. Do you really expect that because you watched Arthur, I’d expect you to know everything right away?”

“Nay, Sire. I…umm…” Merlin’s eyes tripped over themselves as they stumbled toward her. “Mithian has enough. She’s been so kind and a great role model. I want to be a help. I just feel like a burden.”

“Merlin, that’s foolishness. Stop this instant!” She raised her eyebrow at him. Then she took his hands in hers. “You contribute more than you know. Father knows that. I know that. You need to acquaint yourself with matters of statecraft. It’s a natural progression. You’re observing the council and the court. I still learn new things after ten years. Give yourself time. Have the faith in yourself that I have in you, my Prince.”

Rodor sipped on his goblet. “I concur. Keep observing everything around you. Make a suggestion in your normal fashion. I will tell you if there is something you need to do. Is that satisfactory?”

“Perfectly, Sire.” Merlin allowed them both a smile. Gratitude lightened his mood.

Before they could continue, one of the guards rushed into the room. He bowed in hasty fashion. “My Lords and Lady! We have guests. Sirs Leon and Elyan from across the great sea and another dark skinned fellow. They request your presence.”

“Leon and Elyan? They’ve come a long way,” Merlin noted.

“Aye. Shall we see what they require? Prince Merlin and Princess Mithian, we shall continue this discussion at another point.” Rodor led them from the chamber and toward the reception area.

_Diplomacy had its priority in this case…._


	4. Prester John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon and Elyan escort a mysterious refugee from Africa to Nemeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prester John is a legendary figure from medieval literature and myth. For this series, I am taking the African version….

Chapter 4 [One Quarter of the Hourglass Earlier]

Leon and Elyan looked about at their surroundings. _Treachery_ and _Ambush_ lurked around every turn of the road from Camelot. Several times highwaymen tried in vain to rob them. In clear contrast to custom, the villages throughout Gedref hesitated to provide lodging. _Suspicion_ accompanied the purchased supplies. Even the previous night’s chill and dark seemed deeper and more eerie than usual. _Disappointment_ dampened their spirits over Camelot’s lack of enthusiasm to aid their cause. They didn’t dare to turn south toward Tintagel and gamble on Morgana’s good will. 

That left Nemeth…. 

“Told you we should’ve headed north. Percival will help us,” Elyan insisted. 

“Rodor and Mithian won’t forget our help before. Merlin, despite what happened, will hear us out, Elyan. We can’t keep going without some rest,” Leon asserted. He released a heavy breath. “Neither can our companion.” 

“I ride quite well, Count Leon.” A tall sub-Saharan man rode his Arabian stallion to their side. A plain grey cloak draped over his shoulders. Exhaustion reddened his eyes and weighed on his limbs. A vicious scar creased the right eyebrow. “I trust my old friend, Boeve. He would not mislead us. If this King and his people offer aid to Princess Josiane, I have faith in them.” 

Elyan frowned. “She claims to be a Princess. She’s an exile now.” 

“She is the rightful Sultana of Egypt, Count Elyan,” the African man asserted. Emerald flared in his eye. “That bastard, Mustafa, usurps the throne. His allies press down on all of the lands surrounding the Middle Sea. Put pride in your pocket. Do I have to remind you of the so-called Emperor Doun’s threat?” 

“We were on that battlefield.” Leon shook Elyan’s further argument off. “Bors awaits our efforts in that regard. Come.” He spurred his palfrey down the hill and toward the drawbridge. 

“If we can’t hope for King Arthur, we have little choice,” the African noted. He shrugged. “The world turns upside down. I would only ask for a day or two of refuge even if it’s their stable.” He motioned the Arabian after Leon. Within a few lengths, he galloped toward the city at full speed. 

__What is with Arthur? He’s *never* been like this!_ Elyan followed suit as well._

The trio galloped across the drawbridge. They slowed their pace only slightly through the lower town. Their horses’ hooves clopped at a rapid pace across the cobbles uphill and under the arch. Only in front of the citadel did they stop their progress. 

Two emerald clad knights snapped to attention. The one by the portal’s right side hustled down the stairs. “Sir Leon? Sir Elyan? That be you both?” 

“Aye, Sir Tristan. We now reside and serve in Gaul and Saxony. We come on urgent business. Are your King and Princess here?” Leon insisted. 

“They are in residence as is Prince Merlin. I am quite certain they will want to see you. The same greeting we extend to your companion.” Tristan bowed to the stranger. “Welcome, Friend. If you will permit but a few heartbeats, I shall announce you. Nathan, can you seek out the King?” 

“I shall return presently.” He disappeared into the castle. _Urgency_ lent speed to his pace. 

“Trust in Nathan to be fast, Good Friends. His hospitality is second to none,” Tristan insisted. 

“I would hope it is. We have ridden almost nonstop from the coast. This country is most inhospitable. Count Boeve directed us here,” the African griped. 

“Count Boeve of Hampton? If so he is a most worthy ally. King Rodor will assuredly welcome you all,” Tristan declared. “Please come in. I would not see you wait outside.” He motioned toward the waiting stable boy. “See to their horses.” 

The stable boy bowed without a word. One by one he led the designated horses toward the stables and well-earned rests. 

“Now will you follow me? We can wait inside the doors,” Tristan invited. He ushered the trio inside. Then he shut the door after them. 

“Is this usual?” Surprise lit up the African’s face. While he felt glad to be out of the elements, he didn’t expect to be allowed inside of the citadel. 

“Counts Leon and Elyan have aided us in the past. If you are in their company then you are of their quality,” Tristan assured the mystery man. 

“We appreciate that, Sir Tristan. It was unexpected that such courtesy wasn’t shown to us at Camelot,” Elyan replied. 

Tristan stifled his response. Along with the rest of Nemeth’s knights, he’d beheld Arthur’s surprising and frankly out of character behavior over several instances in the previous year. He might have also reminded Leon and Elyan of Merlin’s treatment during the last part of the latter’s stay in Camelot. _Diplomacy_ guided him instead to keep his peace. He turned instead to see Nathan, Rodor, Merlin and Mithian descending the staircase just off to his left. He quickly bowed to them. “Sire, Prince Merlin and Princess Mithian, may I present our guests?” 

“Indeed. Thank you both, Sirs Tristan and Nathan, for alerting us to their presence.” Rodor turned to the three riders. “Leon and Elyan, greetings once more. As for your friend, might we be introduced?” 

After completing the bow, Leon motioned toward the mystery man. “Thank you, King Rodor. Might I introduce Prester John, King of Ethiopia?” 

Rodor nodded. “Indeed you may. Welcome, Prester John, to Nemeth and my citadel.” He strode forward and extended his hand. “Please accept our hospitality.” 

“After our arduous journey, that is most welcome, King Rodor. Forgive us. Our situation is most dire,” Prester John accepted. He firmly shook Rodor’s extended hand. Then he regarded Merlin. “And you would be the sorcerer I’ve heard much about?” 

Merlin considered his response. Granted he was still adjusting to speaking about his magic so openly. He cleared his throat. “I practice magic to help others.” He shook the visiting monarch’s hand as well. “Ethiopia? Is that near Egypt?” 

“Aye. We share a border. I was told that Princess Josiane would be here. She has fought alongside my subjects against the usurper Mustafa’s hordes,” Prester John clarified. 

“She will return tonight. In the meantime please refresh yourselves. If you will follow us, we can show you to your guest chambers. There is time enough to discuss such matters on the morrow. I wish you to eat and restore yourselves,” Rodor declared. 

“You are most kind. Count Boeve insisted we would have such hospitality here,” Prester John accepted. “I await your feast, Good King.” 

“Then there will be such opportunity,” Rodor agreed. He motioned for them to ascend the grand stairs toward the royal quarters. 

In such ways, _Diplomacy_ nurtured alliances and such…. 


	5. Imperial Conference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sorceress brings the villains together in Constantinople to scheme and conspire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we meet the villains of the series. Mustafa is from _Boeve de Hamptoune_. Alis and Doun are both from _Cligés_.

Chapter 5 

[Constantinople, Byzantine Empire]

Life buzzed about the Inner Sea’s northeastern quadrant. Silks flowed in from Chin. Spices, Coffee and Aromatics arrived from mysterious islands to the far east. Furs and plunder arrived from the mysterious north. And from its position straddling two continents and gazing across the water at a third, Constantinople represented an early melting pot of activity and peoples. Cultures blended and _Understandings_ reached. _Strategy_ formed.

Some plans more telling than others……

 

****

 

[Grand Palace]

Meleagant stalked about the opulent throne room. He struggled to deal with _Sol’s_ reflection off of the mosaics and golden décor. He’d never seen tiled pictures underfoot. He ran a finger over the polished mahogany armrest of a nearby chair. He’d heard the rumors and legends surrounding this place from time to time. _Disbelief_ had caused him to dismiss them as fantasy and little else.

Seemed the tales had some basis in fact after all….

_All of the gold and jewels! The armies I could raise… The blood I could spill… And this cretin uses it for decoration? How wealthy is this Alis?_ He curled his lip at the golden goblet sitting untouched on the mahogany table. He’d sniffed it and not cared of the wine’s particular aroma. _Where is that witch? She and that peacock went off to speak on some matter or other. When are we going to speak on such things?_ He heard a throat clearing itself sharply.

An imposing Middle Eastern man watched him in turn. He wore a white robe cinched at the waist by a black belt. Ornate designs decorated his sword hilt. A turban wound itself over the dark hair underneath. He sipped on his own goblet. “The wine. It is not to everyone’s liking it seems.”

Meleagant coughed. “It is not. And you? You cannot stomach it?”

“Allah forbids it, my Lord Meleagant. I have made other arrangements.” The Arab raised his own goblet. “This is something closer to your realm, I believe. Mead.”

Meleagant nodded. “You can’t drink wine but you can have that? Rubbish.”

“I can’t have drink distilled from the grape, wheat, hops or barley. There is nothing said about honey, my Impatient Ally. Have you ever tried it?” He raised a silver pitcher by its handle and filled another goblet. 

“Of course I have!” Meleagant stiffened. His eyes burned into the Arab’s. “We make our own in Cawdor.”

“So I’ve heard. Perhaps you might consider details more carefully before charging into battle? Such rashness!” The Arab handed him the newly poured goblet. “For you. That is a token of friendship in these uncertain times and a thank you.”

“Thank you?” Meleagant swished the mead around in his goblet. His nostrils detected nothing else out of the ordinary. “For what?”

“For trying to get rid of that obnoxious brat, Josiane, and her lover. I would counsel you to choose more capable underlings for such tasks. Pity. With her out of the way, my throne would be secure,” the Arab clarified. He raised his goblet. “To aid and future assistance in ridding ourselves of such pests.”

Meleagant frowned. “Blame the Servant and Tomboy Princess of Nemeth for that! My men would have killed her or sold her into slavery. They and the wretch, Gawain, interfered.” He raised his goblet half-heartedly. Then he took a draught from it. “You’re the Egyptian then?”

“I am Mustafa, the true Sultan of Egypt. The girl has many who believe otherwise.” Mustafa shrugged. “The Bedouin rabble out in the deserts grumble and complain. Occasionally they rise up. My warriors crush their resolve and send them back into the dirt where they belong. Her fiercest ally, Prester John, fled Ethiopia. I now hold that and the neighboring kingdoms. I consolidate my holdings.”

“Aye. Take lands, bleed them dry and hold them in your grasp. Such is the nature of power.” Meleagant nodded. “I hate having too many snakes and pests loose in my yard however. They are to be wiped away. You let them breed. They will multiply.”

“One kingdom at a time, my Lord Meleagant. With Ethiopia’s defeat, I can look elsewhere. One should have friends. That is why I am here.” Mustafa finished his goblet. 

“And why is that?” Meleagant finished his mead. He set the goblet down hard on the table.

“As I said, one must have friends.” Mustafa resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the infidel barbarian. _Arrogance_ and _Idiocy_ stung at his brain. 

“I do well enough on my own, Mustafa. Camelot is weak. The other rulers are either elderly or don’t have the support of their barons. I have spies everywhere. I know where the troublesome brats are. That is why that Witch and I are here.” Meleagant narrowed his eyes. “Those with magic still cower. Still they will rise up. I seek to strike now while the forge is hot. I will find the sorcerer, Emrys, and destroy him.” 

“Emrys?” Mustafa refilled his goblet. “The mythical lord of sorcerers? I thought him only a myth.” 

“He exists.” Meleagant’s tone grated in his throat. “He appears and disappears like a ghost. I have heard of an old man who commands dragons and casts powerful spells. The Witch seeks him out. She will find him.” 

“And what of her? Can she be trusted?” Mustafa wondered. 

“As far as our common priorities, aye.” Meleagant stewed to himself. He still recalled her ‘object lesson’ in his throne room several moons prior. _And when she has accomplished her end, I will rid myself of her._

“Well put.” A stout blonde haired man strutted into the chamber. He smoothed his purple robes. A tall multi-tiered crown glistened in sync with the chamber’s opulence. He led the Sorceress and another rouge-haired man into the area. “Common purpose is the glue which drives men to one another, Meleagant.” He bristled at Meleagant’s lack of acknowledgment of his imperial presence. 

“Such can bring us together across boundaries, Emperor Alis,” Mustafa concurred. “We just spoke on such things.” Unlike Meleagant, he offered the host a polite nod. He’d already met the hooded woman beside the two men. “Emperor Doun.” 

“Sultan Mustafa.” Doun barely acknowledged the Egyptian ruler. _Disdain_ burned in his craw. “King Meleagant, it is good to meet you.” He walked over and held his hand out to the other. 

“I appreciate how you bloodied the Gauls. Those fools slink off the battlefield like the craven curs they are. Pity you both couldn’t handle your brats,” Meleagant complained. He grabbed the other’s hand. 

Alis bristled. “Enough, Meleagant! Hold your tongue! You certainly allowed my nephew and intended to slip through your fingers enough. Doun proposed this alliance. This is my throne room!” He sat down on his throne. “You know where my traitorous sister-in-law, nephew and my _fiancée_ are?” 

“Rodor of Nemeth shelters them, Emperor Alis. Emperor Doun’s victory weakened their Gallic allies,” the Sorceress told them. “Camelot crumbles from within. The Amazons remain within their own borders. The ruffian Percival struggles to earn his nobles’ trust. Morgana Pendragon does as much in Tintagel. She has to rebuild the kingdom. They are weak. Push them in the slightest and they will collapse. Emrys is a myth no more.” 

“And what of the stories out of Ealdor?” Doun pressed. “Refuges said….” 

She shrugged the account off. “The ravings of traitors who ran and left Cedric to die. Who will you believe? They who would say anything for their hides? Or me who brought you all together?” _Menace_ flashed in her eyes. Sparks danced across her fingertips. 

“They fight amongst themselves. They are divided,” Meleagant affirmed. Despite that he measured her half-truths. He knew of the accounts. He also witnessed the looks on too many soldiers’ faces to simply dismiss her version. _What is your game?_

“What then would you recommend?” Alis sipped on his goblet. “It would take months to move our armies into position. Even if we defeat the Gauls, how do we know Britannia will remain weak?” 

“Because they’re fools. They suspect one another. I set the entire court of Camelot against one another and exposed the Boy King as weak.” Meleagant slurped on his goblet. “The former Count of Hampton deepened the rifts. Arthur of Camelot has mere children in chain mail. His once feared knights are scattered across the continent.” 

“Leon, Elyan and the Younger Bors led the Gauls against my army. They fought well. Still they retreated.” Doun looked Meleagant in the eye. “After that battle, I’d agree with you. My army could sail for Britannia within the fortnight. Still why should my knights be alone?” 

“They would not be, Emperor Doun,” she disagreed. “With my magic, I can bring an army from here to Camelot if I so wish. And I would wish it. Do not give Britannia time. Press your advantage now.” 

“I could provide a base in Cawdor to march from,” Meleagant offered. “Anything to finish the rabble.” 

The other rulers exchanged glances. Then Alis cleared his throat. “Britannia has something that each of us wants back. We set the example.” He grinned. “After our conquest, we will take Rome as well?” 

Mustafa nodded. He sipped on his mead. Still _Ambition_ moved him as well. While his host wanted to turn St. Peter’s one way, he’d convert the cathedral to a mosque in his own right. “Milady, if you can bring my army to that place, you have my scimitar.” 

“And my Imperial army’s swords as well.” Alexander rose from his seat. “I trust we have an accord then? When can I expect you all back here?” 

“I will bring you and your armies to Cawdor in three days. They will expect several months to recover their forces. _Ambush_ brings an advantage,” she offered. 

"Three days then. I will see you all on that day, my Lady.” Alexander turned to Doun. “Despite my nephew’s transgressions, I trust you will hold to our accord where Fenice is concerned?” 

“It suits me to do so. In the meantime, I shall marshal my own forces. Until our next meeting, my Friends.” Doun bowed to the remaining rulers. 

“Until then.” She opened a portal. “Sultan Mustafa, step through and find yourself back in your own palace.” 

Mustafa nodded to the others. Then without further word, he disappeared into the mists. 

“And Emperor Doun?” She opened another portal. “That is your doorway.” 

“Milady, thank you.” Doun acknowledged the gesture with another nod. While _Distrust_ hung heavily over his mind, he wasn’t about to challenge her openly like that. He disappeared into the mists in his turn. 

“Quite a trick I must say,” Alis conceded. He wondered how Meleagant had acquired such an ally. Furthermore he pondered how to turn her to his own advantage. 

She of course anticipated all of their inner agendas. She counted on them to keep the potential alliance from solidifying past the point of her own need. And she really didn’t want them targeting Merlin or Morgana. 

The brutes could reshape their part of the landscape to their desire. Anything to do with magic and sorcery, that was hers. 

Such was the nature of politics it seemed….. 


	6. Catching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gawain and companions ride to Nemeth. Prester John and Merlin speak on matters in the garden.

Chapter 6   
[Close to Whitgate—Mid-Afternoon]

In response to the trio’s arrival, preparations went into high gear. Meats went to marinade and then to turn over flame. The banquet chamber practically sparkled. Flowers were gathered and arranged. With the priestesses’ aid, Haste propelled emerald clad knights from their estates toward the citadel.

_Urgency_ buzzed in the air resetting Priority and Business alike…..

 

****

 

Gawain stopped his horse just shy of the woods’ edge. He flexed his arms allowing the stiffness to flow from his shoulders and back. Curiosity nagged at him. While a necessary evil in itself, estate management proved overwhelming. His reeve, Sudby, offered the basics but had time for little else. He’d only begun a survey of his estate when the summons came.

Fortunately Britomart, Lancelot and Elaine met him at the crossroads two leagues from his manor. Together they’d galloped up the dirt roads toward their goal. They all felt on edge to be honest.

“What are you doing?” Britomart snapped at him.

“Maybe waiting for certain people to keep up?” Gawain rolled his eyes at his wife. “Come on! We don’t know if something’s happened to Merlin, Mith’ or the others.”

“Nimue would’ve said so, Gawain. Calm down,” Lancelot advised. He shrugged toward the ladies. “Merlin can handle things.”

“If that witch is around? Sorry, Lance. We almost lost them once. I don’t believe in taking chances,” Gawain disagreed. 

“Besides you’d rather be in a fight than deal with responsibility?” Britomart presumed.

“Looking out for our friends is being responsible, Brit.” Gawain cast a wary glance around them. “I’ll feel better when we’re there.”

“I can’t say I blame you,” Elaine lamented. She recalled the stories of the recent royal progress. Consequently she anticipated _Prejudice_ to jump out at any point. “Lancelot, what do you think this is about?”

Lancelot shook his head. “We could sit around guessing until the sun sets and rises again. I would rather ride for the castle. There we’ll have our answers. Shall we?”

“I’ll second that, Lance, if certain people will keep up.” Gawain raised an eyebrow at Britomart.

Britomart, for her part, flushed red. “I’ll do better than that!” She urged her own horse onward down the trail in question.

“Women.” Gawain shook his head. He raced after the red haired knight in question. “Coming, Lance?”

“We’re right behind you!” Lancelot bellowed back. He picked up the pace for himself and his wife both.

 

****

 

[Whitgate—Royal Gardens]

Even as preparations buzzed about the castle, Merlin led Prester John along the flower-lined paths. His eye passed from colored bloom to colored bloom. His nostrils savored _Rose’s_ , _Lavender’s_ and _Lily’s_ respective scents. A warm breeze rustled his hair and warmed his cheeks. Even if his mind still mulled over the situation outside, the distraction eased his mood.

Just as Mithian told him it would….

He sighed. _How does she know me so well already?_ A smile spread over his face at his Princess’ consideration for his welfare. Perhaps in her honor (and to give her a whiff of scent over the Link), he inhaled deeply of her favorite blooms. Then he turned back toward his guest.

For his part, _Awe_ and _Admiration_ overwhelmed Prester John. From his journeys through the South Seas and the jungles surrounding his kingdom, he recognized most of the exotic plants around them. _Disbelief_ blanked his mind. Other than a few violets, no native flowers of note had caught his eye. The massive dome and ecosystem left him shaking his head. “Truly impressive.”

“What is?” Merlin considered the visitor.

“Your accomplishment here, Prince Merlin. I have struggled to raise some of these plants even in my native land. You make it look easy. The dome is a sight of beauty to rival those in the East. Who are your architect and gardener? I would very much like to speak with them. Did you use your magic on this?”

“Aye. My magic put the pieces together. Still it was a group effort. Our allies, the priestesses, brought materials from another place. I levitated everything to where it is now. Princess Josiane put the finishing touches on that. The triple goddess created the garden around us,” Merlin explained.

Prester John nodded. Despite his own Nazarene faith, he offered _Respect’s_ nod toward the pagan goddess’ handiwork. Still the mention of Josiane grabbed his attention. “Princess Josiane? You mean she of Alexandria?”

“That’s right.” Merlin noted Recognition in his guest’s eyes. “Do you know each other?”

“We have fought together against the usurper Mustafa. I gave her shelter after her uncle and she fled from Egypt. Pity the jackals took her mother across the sea for their leader. Soredamors had beauty and grace,” Prester John explained.

Merlin smiled. “You’ll be seeing her at dinner. Soredamors lives with us here at court. She and Princess Josiane will be at dinner with us tonight.”

“Then it is by God’s grace that I have been delivered here,” Prester John bowed his head. “I am glad that my friends are alive and well. Given what we face, we will need strength of arms and mutual skill.”

“And what is that?” Alarm chilled Merlin’s heart. 

“A dark alliance.” Prester John cleared his throat. “Armies move as if time and distance were no matter to them. A combined Egyptian-Greek force swept across my lands like locusts. They overwhelmed our defenses. I was forced to flee like a craven coward.” _Shame_ reddened his face.

“A coward does not burn with outrage over a loss. Rather he retreats to fight another day.” Josiane stepped into view from behind a rather wide bush. “Prester John! It has been too long!”

“Indeed, Princess. Prince Merlin was telling me how you played a role in this magnificent structure,” Prester John replied.

“I played my part as did the Prince and the native deity here,” Josiane acknowledged. “My god knows the truth in it.” She embraced the other exile tightly. “You are unharmed?”

“My body is fine. My heart remains in bondage with my people and yours. Mustafa and the Greek ruler rattle their sabers once more. Armies pour across the sand and into my realm. It is more than one kingdom can stand against,” Prester John elaborated. “I will ask King Rodor for assistance.”

“He’ll give you a fair hearing. I can’t say more than that.” Merlin shrugged. 

“Oh?” Prester John glanced at Merlin. Surprise raised his eyebrow. “I would presume you’d know your father’s mind.”

“Father-in-Law actually. Princess Mithian and I only recently married. I am adjusting to my new life and role here at Whitgate.” Merlin ushered them toward the path. “Shall we continue with our tour?”

“The azaleas are Mother’s favorite. Shall we?” Josiane offered. 

“That is fine. Perhaps the red blood flowers if you have any?” Prester John accepted. 

Merlin sighed. _What did I say?_ He shook his head before leading them down the trail toward the blooms in question.


	7. Reassurances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mithian reassures Gwen about Arthur. They discuss the wider situation.

Chapter 7   
[Guest Bedchamber—Hours Later]

Gwen considered her reflection in a body length mirror. She smoothed the wrinkles from the borrowed yellow gown. The golden necklace’s glitter—the sole piece brought from Camelot—reassured her. She bit her lip. On the one hand, she wanted to see Elyan and Leon. On the other hand, she worried about the Troll’s bumbling attempts at governance in Camelot. Anxiety unsettled her in terms of Doun’s victory over Bors and the allied forces. _Panic_ chilled her heart over Arthur’s continuing disappearance.

_Arthur…._

_Where are you? What did that witch do to you? Can you be up in Cawdor?_ She sighed. Given Avalon’s tactics, she considered that the Sorceress might have secreted her King in some secret prison. He might be hurt or worse. She could almost feel his pain and isolation. She trembled and bowed her head. _No! I have to have faith! The priestesses would know. They wouldn’t be pretending. They…._

“Gwen?”

Gwen glanced up to find Mithian regarding her from the open doorway. “Princess Mithian, I’m sorry. I was just thinking.”

Mithian nodded knowing full well who her guest’s worries revolved around. Admittedly she knew Merlin still worried about his former liege. She understood full well how much the kidnapping affected the island’s balance of power. “It is I who should ask pardon. I knocked but you didn’t hear me. Besides when we are away from court, we can dispense with the titles. We’re both royals. We’re allies and friends. Arthur’s strong. He’ll find a way to survive for Camelot and you.”

“He will. I have to believe that, Mithian.” Gwen looked out into the passage behind her hostess. “Strange. I might have expected Merlin to visit me at this point.”

Mithian shrugged. “He was called away. Would you accept me perhaps in his place? You know how we royal partners have to step up for them?” She smirked to try and lighten the mood.

Gwen sipped from her goblet. “Called away? The banquet’s only in two turns of the hourglass! Certainly your father wouldn’t have….”

“Nay. He has other places to be.” Mithian studied their surroundings. Even if this was her home, the Sorceress’ previous ambush still left her on edge. Not granite exterior, an army of loyal knights or her Prince could detect this particular threat much less even stand up to her. “The walls might have ears.”

Gwen nodded. _Frustration_ reddened her face. “Can’t Merlin do something? Surely he will figure something out.”

“He’s trying, Gwen.” Mithian resisted her impulse to correct Gwen. Instead she inhaled a calming breath. “He’s worried sick.”

“That I believe. I know he and Arthur have their issues. I have to believe that the creature is behind that,” Gwen insisted.

“You know Arthur’s hatred for magic. Besides he needs to get over having Merlin as a crutch. You have to be the one he looks to, Gwen. Merlin is adjusting but I wish he’d do it faster.” Mithian rubbed her forehead. “So you see…we’re all in that same vessel. Morgana, Percival, Blancheflor, Elena of the Amazons and we are going through the same process. Josiane and Cligés await the chance to confront those who usurped their rightful thrones. Merlin and Morgana seek better understanding of the political and magical worlds.”

Gwen’s lip curled even more. “Meleagant knows this as well. So do his allies. No wonder they chose to strike at Gaul now. They seek to take advantage of the transitions in power.” She exhaled sharply.

“Fortunately Father is here to guide us.” Mithian rubbed her chin. “He won’t allow us to rush off rashly.”

Gwen smiled recalling Rodor’s advice and prudence at several junctures. “From what I’ve seen, he’s cooler under fire than Uther would be.”

“We can be thankful for small blessings such as that. At least our allies are formidable in their own right. We have to act in concert with one another. None can rush off on his or her own,” Mithian admonished.

Gwen coughed. “And how many times have you reminded Merlin of that?”

Mithian rolled her eyes. “More times than I care to. And aye, I know I have been guilty as well.” _Admission_ pushed a haggard breath from her lungs. “Desperation makes a terrible guide.”

“Don’t I know it?” Gwen inspected herself one last time. “It’s all I can do not to take a horse and ride all over Britannia in search of Arthur. I miss him. I feel so cold and hollow without him. I want him to come striding in. I want his calming demeanor. He’d bring order.”

Mithian bit back a counterargument to that point. She knew Rodor didn’t approve of certain policies on Arthur’s part. She had faith that the two Kings and their fellow monarchs could cooperate in the face of the combined global threat. Still she knew Arthur’s actions and those of his impersonator had damaged the former’s standing in his counterpart’s eyes. The magic question offered yet another reason for a shift in the balance of power. She also wanted Merlin to emerge from the shadows. She wanted her Warlock to gain confidence in both of the aforementioned realms of governance. But, despite previous rivalries and agendas, she valued Gwen’s friendship. She’d maintain a higher standard than expected. She’d demand that from the others. Consequently she’d expect as much from Merlin and herself as well. She wouldn’t disappoint her father either. “Order is important. So is cooperation. I know he’d agree with that. Perhaps you might wish to visit with Mother? She was asking about you.”

“Mother?” Gwen hesitated before recalling that Mithian called Hunith ‘mother’. “I’d like that. Shall we?” 

“Aye.” Mithian led Gwen from the chamber and into the passage. Granted she knew Hunith did want to visit with Gwen. She was more than happy to table the political discussions until her father could weigh in on it. 

Politics did complicate things despite the best efforts to the contrary…..


	8. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The goddess reveals the extent to the assembled opposing rulers' schemes. The goddess reminds Merlin of his duty. He wrestles with his duty to her as well as Nemeth.

Chapter 8 [Somewhere Else]

Merlin almost tiptoed through the mists. His skin dimpled. Several matters tugged at his mind for attention. _Concern_ and _Anxiety_ ate at him. Despite being the worst kept secret in Britannia, he had to pretend that the troll was Arthur. He worried about his former liege. He wanted to help Prester John and maybe Josiane at the same time. He still aspired to improve as a counselor and Prince. He wanted to do more for Nemeth and the kingdom. He wished he could do more with his magic.

Around him, the fog cleared to reveal a forest landscape. The birds stopped their songs perhaps alarmed by his presence. A stiff breeze ruffled his dark hair and dimpled his cheeks. Overcast filtered the sunlight overhead. 

He glanced back toward Freya. “Any reason why we’re here?”

She shrugged. “The goddess wanted us here instead of her sanctuary. Only she would know the exact reason. Sorry, Merlin.” With a wave of her hand, she made the mists dissipate. 

He nodded. “It is peaceful here. I just wish it could stay like this.”

She coughed. “For those of us who serve her, Merlin, that is not the way. Life has its challenges. I shouldn’t have to tell you that. We have to find that balance.”

He walked about the small grassy area between several oak trees. A heavy breath escaped his lips. “How to serve two masters…Nemeth, Mithian, her father on the one hand as opposed to the dragons, magic and the triple goddess on the other?”

_You complicate matters far more than necessary, Emrys._ The goddess appeared in a bright flash of light in front of them. _Annoyance_ flickered in her eyes. _We certainly have enough to concern us._

“Pardon him, Milady. He still seeks to understand your way,” Freya interceded.

_Aye. Still there is only so long for him to discern such things._ The goddess considered the kneeling Sorcerer-Prince. _There is but one way, Emrys. Everything comes through me and my will. Remember that._

He looked up at her. His eyes slowly adjusted to her radiance. Nerves jangled about in his stomach. He recalled how Arthur and the others in Camelot would make light of her and the old religion. “I seek the balance between my worlds.”

_A worthy pursuit._ The goddess’ expression softened ever so slightly. _Much as with Accolon and Morgana, you must find that. The future will depend on that. You seek to bring your obligations into harmony. I have guided you to a place for that purpose. You have plenty of allies to assist you. How you proceed is your choice. Choices and outcomes remain in doubt._

“We face challenges. What can you tell us of the Sorceress and her allies, Lady?” he inquired.

“Merlin, have a care.” Freya’s face went pale. “Don’t demand.”

“I need to know so I can serve better. Isn’t that a worthy thing?” he clarified.

_A request for knowledge is worthy. Respectfully posing your request is also vital, Emrys, the goddess informed him. Still it pleases me to help you. I wish for balance to be restored to the countryside for all._ She waved her hands in front of herself. _You have heard the barest beginnings from your latest visitor. Look into the light and see…._

The light dazzled his eyes. It overwhelmed him. 

_Focus, Emrys. If you are to master your abilities, you must have discipline and iron,_ the goddess urged.

He nodded tersely. He already had enough to deal with at the castle. Still he did remember watching Morgana being without her magic. He definitely did not want to go through that. More importantly, how would he protect Mithian, Nemeth and Britannia without it? For that reason and _Duty’s_ sake, he made himself stand up to the light’s intensity.

The glare subsided. A progression of images began to play out in front of himself….

…a great plain under an obsidian overcast sky. As far as the eye could see, knights lay in torn tunics and with unfeeling eyes staring upward. Leon dragged Elyan from the field. He turned to Prince Bors. The Prince in turn signaled a retreat from that place….

…a city of stone surrounded by similar ramparts. The forest, more like Whitgate’s palace garden than the oak and maple around him, lay flattened and broken against the ground. Hundreds of dark skinned warriors lay dead. The invading marauders in purple tunics and jet black robes over their chain mail pillaged and sacked the place. Women and children fled before being caught…at least the lucky ones did. Just outside the city gates, a tall man on horseback seemed to savor the carnage within. _Cruelty_ blazed in his eyes. A smirk spread across his face. His complexion resembled Josiane’s except that it was a darker olive shade…..

….a magnificent chamber glittering with gold and gems. A mahogany table of state glistened in Sol’s ambiance. Silver plates and goblets embedded with gems held food and wine. The warrior from the second image listened to his companions. Meleagant raved at the others. The Sorceress seemed to watch. Two other men argued points. A man clad in purple officiated over the discussion. After heated interchanges, an agreement seemed to be reached. The Sorceress teleported the others away one by one. Then she and Meleagant departed leaving the purple clad ruler….

_Behold the source of your and your companions’ pain, Emrys. You already know of Meleagant’s malice. You know of the rouge priestess’ dark magic. Much as Mithian, her father and you seek to build alliances and forge a peace, evil men seek to build their own alliances to destroy that peace. Your friends have spoken of them already. The first event happened in eastern Gaul. Doun of Cologne defeated your allies, Bors of Gaul, Leon, Elyan and their forces. The second event was the devastation of Addis Adaba by Mustafa of Alexandria and his ally, the so-called Emperor of Constantinople. Their forces swept across your allies. The witch magnified their weapons and tactics making them unstoppable much like locusts before a crop._

His eyes widened. 

_So now you understand? No force of arms by itself will defeat this enemy. The kingdoms of Britannia must unite. Alone each one will be annihilated much as you’ve seen occur. You have already heard the lengths that each of these men will go to. They would treat their own family as animals fit for slaughter. Nay. You must make the other rulers understand the threat,_ the goddess insisted.

“They understand. Prester John, Cligés, Sordedamors and Josiane have told us. Leon and Elyan’s reputations will get others to at least listen.” He frowned. “I wish we could have brought Mithian and Rodor. I can’t speak for the King or her.”

“But you can tell them, Merlin,” Freya interjected. She placed her hand on his arm. “You have to convince them.”

“I’ll do my best, Freya. What will you do for the magic community, Lady? Can you get them to side with us?” he agreed.

_Your presence holds greater credibility than you know, Emrys. Morgana can assist you. Still Britannia needs her high king. She needs unity and justice for all—be they secular or sacred, red or green or blue. Such as it shall be._ The goddess shook her head. _The divisions caused by the Pendragons must end. Only unified can the isle be that place of peace._

He nodded. From dealing with raiders back in Ealdor and threats against Camelot, he grasped the deeper implications. The horrors he’d just witnessed came from each of the individual figures. Each of his friends had suffered from one member of that rogues gallery. “I can’t just dictate to King Rodor and Mithian what to do. They’ll listen to me. That doesn’t mean that they will agree.”

“But you’re one of his chief advisors, Merlin. Surely you can speak to them and the Council,” Freya pointed out.

“And I’ll definitely do that. After that, it’ll be King Rodor’s decision. I have to abide by what he says.” He squirmed. “I’m sworn to be loyal.”

_And you’re bound to me as well, Emrys. You are of two worlds. It is for you to unify them. You have others who can help you. Still it is for you to do so,_ the goddess reminded him.

“We’ll stand with you, Merlin. Nimue and I will be there for the feast tonight. So will Morgana. We can speak with Rodor as well,” Freya assured him.

He nodded and smiled. “I appreciate that, Freya.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I’m not saying that I don’t want to do this. I do. I have to find a way.”

_Indeed you do. Still, Emrys, remember this. I have allowed these events to occur. I could leave you to your fate as well. I have chosen to let you know about these events. The decision is yours. The implications are in your hands, the goddess stated. Return to the court. Forge your connections anew. Then make them count upon the morn._

“I’ll do my best.” He cleared his throat. _Mithian? Morgana?_

_Merlin? Accolon and I are but an hour from Whitgate. What is it?_ Morgana replied.

_Merlin, are you all right? Where are you?_ Mithian asked.

_Freya brought me to the triple goddess’ place. I’ve been shown things._ Gloom weighed on his tone and mood. _We need to talk. We have trouble._

_Don’t be so dramatic, Merlin. How typical,_ Morgana groused.

_He’s serious, Morgana,_ Freya interjected. _Speak to Sir Leon, Princess Josiane and this ruler from the east. They will tell you. We will speak further to this._

_Wait, Morgana._ Mithian clearly picked up on the urgency in his and Freya’s voices. _Merlin wouldn’t just disappear without reason. We should hear him. Would this be a matter for the Royal Council, Merlin?_

_Your father and the other rulers need to hear this as well, Mithian. I’ll be back soon,_ Merlin promised.

_I’ll bring the counselors together. We will hear you,_ Mithian agreed.

_I thank you, Mithian of Nemeth, for that. I await your decision,_ the goddess expressed. She waved her hand opening a mist portal. _Go now, Emrys. Find your path to clear duty._

“I’ll see you tonight. Thank you, Merlin,” Freya noted.

“I just have to figure out what to say.” _Doubt_ and _Insecurity_ furrowed his brow.

“Be yourself.” Freya rubbed his arm. “You have a way of inspiring people. Just be inspired yourself.” She motioned toward the portal. “Have faith. Mithian will be by your side. Trust her.”

“I know.” I also know you’ll be there as well.” He smiled to her. “I appreciate that.” With that, he disappeared into the mists.

_Embarrassment_ and _Amor_ reddened her cheeks. Freya bowed her head. Still she understood the way in front of herself.

_Be mindful of Duty much as Emrys is, Daughter. Such is the way,_ the goddess told her.

Freya nodded. _Apprehension_ chilled her heart. For some reason, she knew something had just happened. She didn’t know what.

The way would get harder…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to get another chapter posted this weekend. In case I don't, have a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Be blessed and happy!


	9. Gambit Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fake Arthur plans a picnic for Gwen and himself. Problem is the Sorceress discovers something afoot....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen in this chapter is Ninane in disguise. Warning—character death and mayhem here.

Chapter 9 [Camelot]

Arthur considered a parchment spread out on his desk. The treaty between Camelot and Cawdor was done. Just two turns of the hourglass earlier, he’d signed and sealed the documents in question. Meleagant’s representative, Ranulf, Earl of Edinburgh, was riding through the northern forests toward the Cawdorian border by that point with his ruler’s copy. On the next day, he’d lead the knights toward Gedref. He tapped his fingers against the worn oak surface. He knew he should’ve focused on the greater design. Still he’d accomplished everything on the Sorceress’ immediate agenda. His mind turned once again to his heart’s desire.

_Gwen…._

_Maybe I’ll take her on a picnic this afternoon. She loves her garden. Maybe that plateau? George can get something together quickly._ He cleared his throat. “GEORGE!”

The chamberlain rushed into the room. He still held the polishing rag in his right hand. Within three heartbeats, he’d smoothed his tunic and pants and stood at attention. “Aye, Sire! What can I do for you?”

“The Queen and I will ride into the forest. I wish a picnic to be prepared. Work with that cook on something suitable. That will be all,” Arthur instructed.

George bowed. _Satisfaction_ warmed his heart. He rushed back out of the chamber and down the passage. Within the hour, he’d have everything in sync. He’d show Arthur who the Best Servant of All Time was. Now that Merlin had moved on, the chamber was his so to speak.

Arthur, for his part, had already swept the brown nosing boot licker from his thoughts. He turned to the window. His eyes gazed over the rooftops. He knew the knights practiced at their sparring in the courtyard. He paid little mind to the sparse activity along the byways and cobbled paths throughout the town. He exhaled. _Amor_ warmed his heart. If he had to deal with ruling the rabble and playing the Sorceress’ games, he’d reap the benefits too.

“Arthur?”

He smiled. With a single move, he turned to find the object of his thoughts watching him just inside the doorway. “Gwen! I’m sorry. The day has been a busy one. Have you been in the garden?”

Gwen smiled. Unbeknownst to him, she’d used a cloaking spell to observe the concord with Ranulf. “Aye. I took some violets and lilacs to that sick maid, Marie.”

“Ah! That was very kind.” Approval sparkled in his eye. He strode over to her. “Did you have anything to do this afternoon?”

“Nay.” She searched his eyes to get at his purpose. “What did you have in mind? You’ve been occupied with important matters. I didn’t wish to disturb you.”

“Gwen, you know I value your insight.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe I can make it up to you? Perhaps you’d like to take a ride in the forest? You know that spot you love so much?”

She rubbed her chin trying to remember the place in question. She hadn’t heard of any such spot in Avalon or in the forest for that matter. Still she resolved to play along. “Of course! You don’t have to do that for me.”

“Maybe not. I want to, Gwen.” He leaned close to her. His lips brushed her cheek.

She forced herself to relax. Somehow she beat _Revulsion’s_ distaste down. She recalled _Duty’s_ purpose. “We should do that. Perhaps we can celebrate our latest triumph?”

“Aye. The accord with Cawdor is complete. With Meleagant’s support, we don’t need to fear Rodor or his allies. Merlin wants to play Prince. Fine.” He snorted with fervor at that thought.

She shrugged. “Perhaps if we had accorded him a proper place, he might have stayed? Building along the border is drastic. Don’t you think?”

“We have to maintain our interests. Certainly you don’t trust Morgana or Merlin not to invade. They think more of that goddess than proper politics.” He cleared his throat. “Put that matter from your mind for today, Gwen. I want a great afternoon with you. Just you and me.”

_And I can get more out of you in the process._ She knew it would be a simple matter to spike the wine with herbs and spells. Those measures and his letting his guard down would allow her to get exactly what she needed from him. Then she’d report back to Freya and the goddess.

The door slammed shut abruptly.

“What? Arthur?” She looked about the area. _Surprise_ paled her face.

“I’d like to know as well.” _Instinct_ compelled him to embrace her tightly.

“You never listen.” The Sorceress stepped out from behind a drawn curtain. “You allow her to know everything! I told you….”

“She is the Queen! I have to keep her informed!” he protested.

“What is this?” Gwen’s eyes went wide. Much as had happened with Merlin, Mithian and Morgana in Nemeth, the Sorceress had slipped in right under her nose. “Arthur! Isn’t she the witch who tried to murder Morgana?”

“The little witch should be dead. I’ll deal with her and the others soon enough.” The Sorceress coughed. “As I will you.” She circled the couple. “As if the triple goddess thought I wouldn’t sense her duplicity?”

“Duplicity?” Gwen stiffened. She knew she didn’t have the skill to hold off much less defeat the Sorceress in a magical standoff. She didn’t want to run and blow her cover. Still she saw little choice in that regard. She tried to summon the mists to escape.

Nothing happened.

“Aye.” Crimson flared from the cloaked woman’s eyes. “And your spells seem to be failing you. Pity I’ve blocked your escape.”

“Escape?” He backed away from Gwen. “You don’t have magic.” His eyes went wide. “There’s no way you have magic!”

“Arthur, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” Gwen tried to think of her next move. She had to get out of there. 

“Don’t I?” The Sorceress waved her hand. _“Bi air fhoillseachadh!”_

Gwen grimaced. The air warmed and burned about her. Then she saw her appearance shimmer and melt away much like ice before _Sol’s_ warmth. 

His jaw dropped. Shock numbed him. “What? How? Who are you? What have you done with Gwen?”

“She and her sisters put her here as I did you, Dolt.” The Sorceress chortled. “Pity I can’t allow her to tell what she knows.” She glared at Ninane. “You didn’t think you could fool me, Little Girl? I saw through you immediately.” She flicked a finger.

Before she could defend herself, Ninane was thrown across the chamber. She hit the far wall hard. Her eyes went wide. Her face turned pale and clammy. Numbness claimed her arms and legs. Then she slumped to the floor.

He rushed over to the deceased priestess. He struggled to understand what had happened. The woman he’d loved and trusted hadn’t even been that person. He stooped over her. His fingers ran through her hair. “She looked just like Gwen. How…?”

“The same way you appear to be Pendragon. She cast a glamour spell to seem like Guinevere.” The Sorceress narrowed her eyes. “Careless arse!” She glared at her victim. “I can still make something of this. You be more careful. I can eliminate you as well.” 

“Where is Gwen?” he demanded.

“Some place secure. I have an idea. Let her hide there.” She grabbed Ninane’s arm. “This one has one last purpose.” She disappeared in a dark flash.

He staggered back to his desk. He slumped into the chair. He rubbed his forehead. _Sorrow_ tore at his heart. _Dismay_ burned at him. _Irony_ stabbed at him. Much as he’d fooled many in Camelot, Ninane had somehow spirited Gwen away and replaced her. He’d expressed himself to her. He’d fallen for her. He’d endangered everything.

Still he worried about the real Gwen and where she was.

He stormed from the chamber and toward the courtyard. He wouldn’t let this rest…not by a long shot.


	10. Relating Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin tells Mithian and the council about the goddess' visions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got my emperors mixed up. We're dealing with Alis not Alexander in this piece. Also Happy New Year everyone in case I don't get the next section up by then.

Chapter 10 [Nemeth—Council Chamber]

Merlin gulped from a goblet of water. He leaned his chair back against the wall. A frown curled his mouth uncomfortably. _Priority_ yanked his brain back and forth. _Loyalties_ seemed to trump one another. As Prince of Nemeth, he was sworn to his subjects, King and Princess/Wife/Partner be they the goddess’ followers or not. On the other hand, the goddess, dragons and fellow magic users deserved his protection and loyalty as well. Then the question of rescuing Arthur weighed on his mind as well.

All deserved his attention. Still which came first? What should get the most time? Was it really as easy as the triple goddess made it seem?

_She’s tolerant of others or seems to be. She really seems into her game playing though. Does she really care about Arthur or want to put him in his place? I wonder if she gets it?_ He shook his head before taking another weighty draught.

_She gets it all right, Merlin. It really can’t be any easier than she explained it to you,_ Morgana interjected with a sharp edge to her tone. _Accolon and I are about to see Rodor. We’ll speak later. Do keep yourself together._

_I’m trying, Morgana. So not helping!_ He rolled his eyes. _That witch said she knew about Mithian and me. I don’t want to be stuck between two sides._ He sulked.

The hand coming to rest on his shoulder made him jump. _Instinct_ made him ready to react.

Mithian rubbed his arm. Her eyebrow raised at his skittishness. “It’s all right. You’re among friends, my Prince. I brought the others as promised.” She motioned toward the rest of the assembled council.

Gawain looked Merlin over. “You found something, didn’t you? Party’s tonight, Mate.”

“At ease, Gawain.” Lancelot shook off the other knight’s irreverence. “Merlin doesn’t get shaken up easily. You know that as well as I do.” He walked over to the wine bottle. “Some of this might settle your nerves.” He poured a goblet for his friend.

“Thanks, Lancelot.” Merlin accepted the wine. He slowly meandered toward the window. His eyes drifted over the tree tops and toward the east. “I discovered why Leon, Elyan and Prester John are here.”

“We know about the invasion, Merlin,” Josiane noted. 

“Aye. I know.” Merlin sucked in another deep breath. His face paled. He trembled slightly. “The triple goddess showed me what happened.” He slumped into a chair by the window. He rubbed his forehead. 

“Merlin?” Mithian tensed. Granted she’d seen her husband get morose. Still _Fear_ and _Intimidation_ didn’t often get the better of him like this. She stooped down to his level. 

“Such a large force,” Merlin muttered. He gulped down the remainder of the wine.

“Bloody hell! Never seen you finish off one like that.” Gawain exchanged glances with Lancelot. “We’ve been up against massive armies back in Camelot.”

“We have allies, Prince Merlin,” Elaine interjected.

Josiane searched Merlin’s face. “What then, my Prince, did you see?”

Merlin shook his head. “I saw what happened to Ethiopia and in Eastern Gaul. There were so many dead. Meleagant and the Sorceress are forming their own alliances. They met in this great chamber with so much glittering glass and gold. The ruler on the high throne wore purple.”

Josiane’s eyes narrowed. She muttered a curse in her native tongue. “That was the Emperor Alis you saw.”

“Emperor…who?” Britomart looked to Mithian.

“He rules over the Eastern Roman Empire. Father has heard his name. Soredamors, Cligés and you have mentioned him as well,” Mithian clarified. “Who else did you see, my Prince?”

“The Sorceress was there. So was Meleagant and that king, Doun, Cligés mentioned. There was also a man who looks like Josiane only darker and speaks with an accent like hers. He led the invasion of Ethiopia,” Merlin continued. 

Josiane clenched her fists. She fumed. “That was Mustafa. So the snake allies himself with others. I fear I brought this fight to your doorstep.”

“As if we wouldn’t help you? Josie, you’re family! So’s your brother! Nah! Big Red did that.” Gawain chortled. “This fight’s been brewing for a long, long time.” He grabbed onto his niece by the shoulders. 

“Take your counsel, Uncle Gawain. I know you crave Meleagant’s blood for yourself. Doun wants Cligés dead. Alis wants Fenice returned for his bed. Mustafa wants me dead,” Josiane reminded him. “I have my own mind for accounts.”

“Vengeance is not the way though. Please!” Elaine jumped up. “Josiane, you’re not a murderer!”

“I am sworn to avenge my father. My people languish under Mustafa’s regime. Alis and Doun only know treachery! They know we’re here. Meleagant and that witch have informed them. They know we’re under King Rodor’s protection. They will come like a swarm darkening the sun. Our friends will confirm that I am sure,” Josiane rebutted firmly. “That is what Prince Merlin saw in the visions.”

“It is.” Merlin nodded. He sucked in a deep breath. “And without Arthur, we have no high king.”

“We have Father. He will not shirk his duty, my Prince. Nor will we,” Mithian asserted. “We do our duty with a clear head. Everything else will fall into place.” She kept the other part of that argument back. _We will speak more on the rest of what she said later, Merlin._

_I’m loyal, Mithian, to your father and you. I love you,_ Merlin assured her.

_I know that, my Prince._ Mithian cleared her throat. “Are we of one mind? Do we support our guests?”

“Bloody yeah we do!” Gawain spoke up right away. “We should let Rodor know.”

“I move for caution but agree,” Lancelot chimed in. Given Merlin’s resolve in the face of the grail crisis, he could well imagine how fearsome the allied army was. He embraced his shuddering wife. “It’ll be all right, Elaine. You’ll see. Ywain and Galahad will lead us well.”

“I hope so.” Elaine gulped and tightened her own grip on her husband’s waist.

“We should carry ourselves in a relaxed manner as much as possible. The court doesn’t need this matter revealed for tonight at least. We shall speak with our guests and King Rodor shall know our mind,” Mithian reminded them. “Shall we prepare for the feast, my Prince?”

“I wish I could take a bath. I don’t want to trouble the maids,” Merlin lamented.

“You are their Prince, Merlin. I don’t think it’s that much trouble,” Lancelot declared. “Until the dinner then, my Friends?”

“Yeah. Dinner.” Gawain stalked out of the chamber. He wanted to talk with Leon and Elyan. Something sounded off. Not that he doubted Merlin mind you. He wanted confirmation.

“My Prince and Princess.” Britomart curtseyed. Then she rushed after him. “WAIT, OAF!!!”

“Go after them, Josiane. I don’t want any incidents,” Mithian directed. 

Josiane hustled after her aunt and uncle. Granted she burned over past indignities at Camelot. She knew her uncle would feel the same. Worse if anyone ranted about magic, she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to respond. 

Merlin rose slowly. “That bath would sure be good right now.”

“We can take care of that,” Mithian agreed. She gave the others one more look. Then she followed her husband out the door.

Tensions rode high…..


	11. Issues and Rodor's Admonition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon and Elyan let their issues over magic and the goddess show. Rodor makes his thoughts on those quite clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!!!

Chapter 11 

Leon and Elyan looked about the castle. They noted the garlands streaming about the passages. The castellans seemed in a great mood. They exchanged brief pleasantries with Hunith upon passing each other in the near hall. They didn’t remember Whitgate being so opulent on their past visits with Arthur.

The signs of the unusual things stood out. Wonder hit them as they beheld the glittering dome behind the citadel. They’d beheld the exotic and strange flora under it. Even the humid and hot conditions surrounding the plants left them befuddled.

Leon sighed. He knew the cause. Frankly, after everything they’d seen and heard in Camelot’s service, he couldn’t believe Rodor would trust in the triple goddess and old religion. He still couldn’t believe Merlin was a sorcerer. _How many times did he cast spells around us? Despite being on guard, he got away with it. I know he is our ally. Still is he a Prince or that goddess’ slave?_

“Merlin’s really playing it up with his magic. Isn’t he?” Elyan cut in.

“Hmmm?” Leon jerked back to attention. “The dome and garden is a bit much. Still Merlin was always organizing and running things for Arthur. You see how Princess Mithian is always there with him. I imagine she’s holding Merlin’s strings.”

Elyan shrugged. “That is if Merlin’s not influencing them with a spell. Look at that cloaked witch or Morgana. They’re evil! Magic is evil.”

Leon stifled the answer he wanted to give. He well understood how voices could carry in the granite halls. “You might be advised not to say that too loudly or much around here. I might agree but here magic is legal.”

At that moment, a voice cleared. Both men noticed a page in an emerald tunic bowing to them.

“My lords, Counts Leon and Elyan, King Rodor would like to visit with you before the banquet. Can you please follow me?” The Page somehow managed to keep a straight face. As Leon had supposed, the younger man had heard their doubts about Merlin. Still he knew it would do him little good to disagree with the higher status visitors.

Instead he led them toward the far door and the royal chamber just beyond….

 

****

 

[Throne Chamber]

Rodor reviewed several documents. Court cases had filled his morning. Bickering over boundaries echoed in his ears. Honor and Wergeld claims occupied his attention. Small landholders and larger manors needed balance in grazing and agricultural rights. 

A few sips from his goblet settled his nerves.

_I wish Mithian had been here. She would have had some unique insights._ He mused over how much time she’d missed. _I should speak to Merlin and her._ He smiled at the thought of the new Prince. _Merlin does far better than I’d anticipated. He guided our guests earlier. Already he proves the able diplomat. He is very observant here and in the council chamber. Pity Arthur had not accepted matters._ He looked at the latest document, a land dispute in the northeast hinterlands. _How I wish Merlin and Mithian had completed their expedition. We need to know our subjects and those territories. Merlin’s idea about the taverns would go a long way toward establishing a presence there._

“Pardon me, Sire. Are those satisfactory?” Peter asked.

“Hmmm?” Rodor peered over at the scribe. “Aye, Master Peter. Everything is quite in order.” He scratched a signature with his quill. Then he sealed the document and handed it to Peter. “See this to the archive.”

“I shall indeed,” Peter agreed. 

“One more thing,” Rodor added. “Are you reciting at the feast tonight?”

Peter cleared his throat. With the new position’s demands, he hadn’t had time to ponder and compose. “If it is your wish, Sire, I can. I didn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense! Your poetry is a gift, Master Peter!” Rodor assured him. “Did Lord Brumenwald need you for anything this afternoon?”

“I believe this is my last task prior to the banquet, my lord,” Peter noted. 

“Then you have the afternoon to compose a worthy piece for our guests and the court. I look forward to what you come up with.” Rodor noticed the page approaching with Leon and Elyan. “What is this? Master Peter, perhaps you might stay for a moment?” He stood up and walked over toward the newcomers. “Salsgar, you brought them. Splendid! Perhaps you might fetch some wine for our guests?”

“At once, my King.” Salsgar bowed to the others. Then he rushed into the passage. 

“We appreciate the hospitality, King Rodor. The road was long. We’re looking forward to seeing our friends again,” Leon expressed. He tried to keep a neutral expression.

“Your ruler has told me of your ordeal in Saxony, Count Leon.” Rodor noted the heaviness in their faces. “Still you seem troubled. Perhaps I might do something to remedy that?”

“You’re very kind.” Elyan cleared his throat. “I hope to see my sister, Queen Guinevere, at some point. We didn’t stop for long in Camelot.”

“She will be at the banquet tonight representing Camelot. A great many of your friends and former companions in arms wait to speak with you both as well,” Rodor assured them. “We will hear your case in the morning. For now you should relax. Perhaps take in the royal garden? It is quite the sight.”

“It is, King Rodor.” Elyan couldn’t quite stifle the cough. “Prester John went with Mer…Prince Merlin….into it.”

“And you did not? You seem troubled, Count Elyan. I assure you the gardens are quite secure. Perhaps you might ask Master Peter about them? He composes his poetry out there quite often,” Rodor wondered.

“Aye, Sire. The flora and blooms astound the eye and soothe the soul. Princess Josiane and Prince Merlin did their parts. We thank the goddess for her effort in that regard.” Knowing the visitors’ previous service in Camelot, Peter discerned _Prejudice’s_ stench about them. Still he stifled his observation out of appreciation for their rank.

Leon and Elyan exchanged glances. Then the former sighed. “It is impressive. Still….”

“Still what?” Rodor frowned. Suspicion now creased his brow. “Count Leon, I will ask again, what troubles you? Be honest now.”

Leon nodded. He did not wish to get into a debate. “We do not wish to insult you or your court, King Rodor. We were trying to be discreet.”

Rodor pondered the response. He knew well Camelot’s opposition to magic and free worship for all. “I appreciate discretion, Good Lords. Still this is not Camelot. Magic is legal in Nemeth. My subjects worship as they will. I will not allow anyone here to be persecuted for their beliefs.” He tapped the arm rest on the throne. “I hope you will make peace with Prince Merlin. You certainly both owe him your lives enough times over.”

“Sire, how can you trust magic? We’ve seen enough examples….” Elyan started.

“Examples of both good and bad use, I believe. Perhaps you might wish to speak with King Accolon and Queen Morgana tonight? She laments her past. Prince Merlin would appreciate your support and friendship. I would ask that you take greater care around Princess Mithian. She would not appreciate your tone.” Rodor exhaled sharply. “Nor I suspect would Sir Gawain or Sir Lancelot for that matter.”

Elyan wanted to say something. Still Leon shook his head as if to say ‘not now’. 

Salsgar returned to the chamber bearing a wine vessel and three more goblets. “As you asked, my lord.” He set the goblets on the table. Then he poured them. “And some for you, Master Poet?”

“Please join us, Master Peter. I would ask for all to join in good fellowship. Through others, I heard of our friends’ departure from Camelot. Perhaps we might move on from that here?” Rodor raised his goblet. “To friends.”

The others raised their goblets as well…even if they may or may not have agreed.

_Politics_ did make uneasy bedfellows….


	12. Mithian Advises Merlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another wife to husband discussion....

Chapter 12 [Merlin/Mithian’s Chamber]

Merlin paced about the chamber. _Dread_ dogged his thoughts. He had enjoyed the visits with Prester John. Seeing Hunith with Gwen and the others always lifted his spirits. He should have been looking forward to the banquet. Still _Anticipation_ brought his former fellow castellans’ feelings to the fore. He worried about the Sorceress’ next move. He knew Rodor would’ve needed them at the judicial hearings on that day. 

“It will be all right, Merlin,” Mithian advised from behind the changing screen. “Counts Elyan and Leon had best mind themselves. Father will not tolerate any ill will toward Queen Morgana or you. Nor will I.” She strode into view. Her yellow dress flowed gracefully from her shoulders. Her mother’s necklace glistened at her throat.

He frowned. “And you’re reminding them of that. I wish we could get rid of that dress. It just speaks to your misfortunes.”

“I suppose.” She shrugged. “You are such a worrywart. I suppose we’ll have to work on that rough edge.” She embraced him. 

“I don’t want to remind you of that humiliation, Mithian. Can I help it if I care?” He returned the embrace. 

“Your heart would envelop the world with its warmth. Still think of it like this. I discovered that warmth while wearing it. I found you. Our bond was born while I wore it. So why would I get rid of it? I believe it should be central to my wardrobe instead.” Her lips pressed down on his. When she pulled back, she smirked. “There are reasons I love you, Merlin. Never forget that.”

“And I love you.” He gazed deeply into her eyes. _Amor_ strummed its notes across the Link between them. 

“You do muddle along at your own pace. I believe with some coaxing that you’ll arrive someday,” she teased. 

“Some day?” He rolled his eyes.

“Some day. Just another of those rough edges.” She chuckled. “Father and I both do. Don’t let a few naysayers bother you.” She poured him a goblet of wine. “Jocelyn’s learning our tastes rather well.”

“She just needed some practice. Give her time,” he affirmed. “Are you having some?”

“I will since you asked.” She poured herself a goblet as well. She sipped from the rouge liquid. “A touch dry but it is good.” She set the goblet down on the table. “Be patient. We will persevere.”

He sighed. “I know. I just need to have faith.”

“Can we be realizing something?” Mirth sparkled in her eyes. Once more her lips twisted into _Mischief’s_ smirk. 

He shook his head. He knew better than to doubt himself in front of her. Still he wanted to remain grounded. “I feel burdened by both roles.”

“Both roles? You mean sorcerer and Prince?” She grasped that his visit with Freya to the goddess’ realm still weighed heavily on him. “You’re doing the best you can.”

“The goddess pressed her point.” His shoulders drooped. “She wants me to acknowledge that everything comes from her.”

She rubbed her chin. Since overhearing that discussion, _Insecurity_ had jabbed at her. She wondered what the goddess’ intentions were. “I know you’re loyal, Merlin. I’m not worried.”

“You…aren’t?” He stiffened.

“Nay. I know you’ll respect those bonds in their proper context. It is a question of feudal order. We are loyal to each other on one level. We respect Father on another. The goddess is above everything else. As she said, from her comes everything.” She rubbed his shoulder. “Remain loyal and keep to your path. Be confident, my Prince. Let everything else work itself out.”

“And we don’t pay attention?” His eyebrow raised.

“Of course we do. We can guide events. We can suggest things to Father and the Council. We can care for our subjects. Still we cannot force things. Much as with your magic, Merlin, it will happen when it’s supposed to,” she continued.

“Much like that boar getting the drop on you?” he supposed.

She rolled her eyes. “The Sorceress was behind that. Besides it did provide a certain servant yet another chance to get my attention. Now didn’t it?” She snorted.

“Aye. It did,” he conceded.

“See? Now let’s take the hint.” She gulped another draught from her wine. “Optimism, Merlin. You should try it at some point.”

He squeezed her hands in his. “Aye. It’s time for our entrance.”

“Your stomach calls. That figures,” she jabbed.

On cue, her own stomach grumbled its protests.

“And yours does too,” he pointed out.

“We shall have to remedy that. Now shouldn’t we?” She took his hand. “Time for our delights.”

“Lead the way,” he agreed. 

Before they could leave the chamber, Jocelyn rushed into the chamber. “Milord and Lady!” She curtseyed. “Come quickly!”

“Jocelyn, calm yourself. What is it?” Mithian helped the maid to a chair. 

Jocelyn composed herself with several deep breaths. “The two visiting counts. Come quickly!”

“Leon and Elyan should have more sense than that,” Merlin supposed.

“Except when it comes to Uther’s brainwashing.” Mithian shook her head. “Jocelyn, can you show us?”

“Aye.” Jocelyn stood with effort. “Follow me please.” She beckoned her superiors to follow.

_Now what?_ Merlin shut the door behind them. He hoped that cooler heads would prevail in what was happening….


	13. Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elyan and Leon deal with their feelings. Then they run into Morgana....

Chapter 13  
[Citadel Entrance]

Morgana smoothed her tunic and riding breeches. While she endured the long gowns and droning at court, she relished the horseback ride over the trail between Tintagel and Whitgate. Much as Arthur had with his knights, she’d earned her followers’ respect. In the wild, she took her regular turn with chores. She practiced sparring with the knights. She even used her magic in ways to benefit the entire hunting party. She’d enjoyed the peace and birds’ singing overhead. It was nice for the most part.

That is if Merlin’s emotions didn’t overwhelm things from time to time.

_What is it now?_ She sighed. _How can such a powerful warlock be such a ninny?_ She shook her head. A quick glance over her shoulder found Nemeth’s servants bringing the delegation’s things toward the stairs and their assigned chambers on the floor overhead. _He makes things harder than they have to be. Honestly!_

“Morgana? Are you unwell?” Accolon rubbed her shoulder. 

“Nay. I’m thinking of what to say to Merlin. His worrying is giving me a headache.” She exhaled a calming breath. 

“He does have a great deal to consider. I can relate to that,” he reminded her. 

“I know. He’s always been that way though.” She sniffed. “Perhaps we….” She stopped at the sight of Gwen, Jocelyn and Hunith approaching them. “Gwen! Hunith!” A smile spread across her face. 

Hunith curtseyed before the visiting monarchs. “King Accolon and Queen Morgana, it’s good to see you. I’m sure King Rodor will be glad to see you.” 

Morgana motioned the former peasant to her feet. Then she seized onto the latter enveloping her in a tight hug. “Not to mention I’m glad to see you too. How are you liking Nemeth?” 

It’s an adjustment. I lived in Ealdor for so long. There we had little. Now there’s so much more. Still Merlin’s happy. That’s what matters. And you two are looking well. How are you both?” Hunith answered. 

“We’re learning the ways of rule much as Prince Merlin is, I’m sure,” Accolon noted. “Queen Guinevere, you’re looking well.” 

“I’m hanging in there.” Gwen managed a straight face. “I just wish Arthur would turn back up.” 

“We’ll find him, Gwen. Even if he is stubborn and set in his ways, he is my brother. The Sorceress has him somewhere. He’s too valuable as a pawn for her to kill him. Take heart in that,” Morgana assured her. 

“I can hope. That’s what keeps me going,” Gwen lamented. “I’m trying to be brave in all of this.” She glanced around. “I can’t believe we have to keep up the act that the troll is him.” 

“Best the Sorceress thinks we don’t suspect,” Morgana pointed out. “Meantime shall we let Rodor know we’re here?” 

“Of course. He’ll be glad to see you. I’m sure Merlin and Mithian will as well,” Gwen agreed. “Thanks, Morgana.” 

“Of course.” Morgana allowed her royal counterpart a kind smile. “Let’s see our host, Accolon. I wish to discern the local news before the banquet tonight.” She led the group down the passage. 

A few turns later, they encountered Leon and Elyan coming from the other direction. 

“Elyan! You made it!” Gwen rushed toward her brother. She threw her arms around him. 

“Gwen! So that’s what Rodor meant! He told me you’d be at the banquet tonight. I thought you were back in Camelot. How can you be there and here?” Elyan returned the greeting. 

“Does Arthur know there’s a witch at his court?” Leon demanded. 

Morgana rolled her eyes. “Nay. Arthur doesn’t know. Then again he isn’t Arthur. You saw a troll with a magical disguise.” 

“So where’s Arthur? Did you do something?” Leon accused. 

“Leon! You take that back!” Gwen scolded. “Morgana had nothing to do with it.” 

“You two will never change.” Morgana ground her teeth. “I am not the cause of this crisis. That would be the Sorceress. If I was her ally, would she have tried to kill me? I think not.” 

“Have a care, both of you.” Accolon stepped between his wife and the two counts. His hand rested on his sword hilt. 

“Hey! What’s with the racket?” Gawain rushed toward the developing situation. “Leon and Elyan, cool it! Everything’s okay!” 

“Magic’s messing with everything, Gawain. You must be spelled to think like that,” Elyan accused. 

“Don’t think so. Everything was fine. Get a grip, Elyan. Merlin’s doing great as Prince. Mith’s helping him. Don’t be insulting them,” Gawain disagreed. “Let’s just find a cask and have a brew. Okay?” 

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing with him. Still he has a point, Elyan and Leon. The last thing we need is an incident,” Morgana pointed out. 

“Your support is overwhelming, Your Queenship,” Gawain snarked at Morgana. “We’d best get to it. If Brit catches up, she’ll fuss all over us.” 

“Nay, Gawain! You just don’t see. Do you?” Leon refused. “Somehow you’ve been spelled! How else could Merlin have all of this? He’s deceived you all.” 

Gawain frowned. “Take that back, Leon. I really don’t want to have to take that out of your hide.” 

“Get the Prince and Princess! Now!” Hunith urged Jocelyn. 

The maid rushed for the stairs and the royal chambers above. 

"Maybe we should ask Merlin himself?” Elyan insisted. 

“Not with that tone, you don’t. Sorry, Mate, you aren’t taking a step toward Mith or him,” Gawain disagreed. He looked around for his fellow knights. 

“I’ll stand with you, Sir Gawain. King Rodor will understand,” Accolon declared. 

Morgana curled her lip. _Disgust_ soured her stomach. Her eyes glowed. She waved her hand. _“Seas fhathast!”_

Leon and Elyan struggled. The spell held them fast. Their arms and legs would not move. 

“Now you’ll just have to behave. Won’t you?” Morgana glowered. 

“Gawain! GAWAIN! Stop!” Britomart called. 

"And here we go.” Gawain grimaced. “Brit, we’re fine! Come on!” 

“That’s a likely story.” Britomart hustled to their side. She noted the two enchanted visitors. “What happened to them?" 

“I’m keeping them in line, Britomart. We can’t have trouble now. Can we?” Morgana explained. “For once, Gawain didn’t cause a scene. There might be hope for him yet.” 

“Sure. Insult me. I stick up for you, Morgana, and that’s what I get,” Gawain complained. “I don’t know how this can get any worse.” 

“What’s going on?” Mithian demanded as she and Merlin ran toward them. “Morgana? Accolon?” 

“Nothing except the usual Camelot bias against magic, Mithian. Someone needs to tell Leon and Elyan that there are some good sorcerers out there,” Morgana explained. 

“What’s with you two? You know better than this!” Merlin scolded. “Mother, Gwen, are you all right?” 

“We’re fine, Merlin. Thank you,” Hunith assured him. “They accused you of casting spells on everyone.” 

“What?” Merlin stared at the two frozen counts. “You know I wouldn’t do that! I would never…!” _Indignation_ burned in his craw. He wiped away the tears welling in his eyes. 

_Rage_ sparked in Mithian’s eyes. “If you both won’t conduct yourselves civilly, then spend a night locked in your chambers. Father will deal with you in the morning. Morgana, I am sorry about this.” 

"It isn’t your fault. Certain attitudes lay at the heart of it. Let them think on it. Perhaps we can go to our chambers? I don’t want to anger your father with this,” Morgana assured her. 

“Brit and I will deal with it.” Gawain grabbed onto Leon’s arm. “Let’s go, Leon.” 

"Wait until we talk,” Gwen told her brother. “This is going to stop!” 

Morgana shrugged. “Too bad. I was enjoying that.” Her eyes flickered once again. She released the spell. 

Leon and Elyan staggered like two puppets whose strings were released. They steadied themselves against the walls. Their legs threatened to collapse underneath them. 

“Let’s go.” Gwen slid her arm under Elyan’s left arm. She guided him down the hall. 

“Come on, Leon. Time to go,” Gawain urged. “Get his other arm, Brit.” 

“We’ll be back, Milady,” Britomart added. She helped Gawain to support Leon in their trek down the passage toward the waiting dungeon. 

Merlin shook his head. He clenched his fists. “Will it ever stop? What did we do to them?” 

“Uther’s poison runs deep, Merlin. I thought you understood that,” Morgana reminded him. “We know you aren’t behind this. Meantime Accolon and I need to get to our chamber. We’ll deal with this tomorrow.” 

“Jocelyn, please show King Accolon and Queen Morgana to their chamber?” Mithian instructed. “Morgana, Accolon, thank you.” 

“We know. Still it’s appreciated,” Accolon accepted. 

“Right away, Milady.” Jocelyn led the remaining guests toward the far staircase. 

Hunith declared, “It isn’t your fault, Merlin. Queen Morgana’s right. You can’t blame yourself.” 

“He does, Mother,” Mithian replied. She squeezed his hand. “I wish you’d understand that, my Prince.” 

“I do. It doesn’t make it hurt any less though.” Merlin motioned toward the royal chambers. “We might as well let King Rodor know. Better he hear it from us first.” 

Mithian grimaced. “Aye. And you think you have no hope? You learn quickly, my Prince.” 

“Glad you think so,” he replied. 

“Another rough edge smoothed a bit while a thousand more remain,” Mithian teased. “Let’s tell Father. Follow us, Mother.” 

The trio headed down the hall. They hoped that the mood wouldn’t be too badly ruined before the banquet…. 


	14. Morgana's Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodor calls his council and the rulers of Gaul and Tintagel together. Morgana makes an offer to defuse a potential crisis

Chapter 14 [Two Turns of the Hourglass Later—Council Chamber]

Despite Mithian’s presumption to the contrary, Rodor didn’t wait for the following morning. _Outrage_ burned in his craw. _Disbelief_ left him scratching his head over Leon’s and Elyan’s actions. He believed that Morgana had at least earned the benefit of the doubt with her recent actions. In any event, he’d not allow a guest of his court especially a fellow monarch to be assaulted in such a manner. He wanted to believe differently in people. Still he recalled Josiane’s treatment not to mention Merlin’s and his daughter’s at the hands of Camelot.

Celebration be damned…He’d deal with all of that now.

After a hasty summons, others had joined him in that chamber. The royal council sat in their places around the grand table. Merlin and Mithian flanked him in their seats. Morgana, Accolon, King Bors and Prince Bors talked amongst themselves in the far corner. 

Lancelot shook his head. “I can’t believe they’d simply attack Queen Morgana. I know before she was a threat. They know she’s changed.”

“Uther filled everyone’s head with that load of bollocks, Lance.” Gawain took a sip from a water goblet. Frankly he wanted some beer (or another suitable alcoholic beverage). Still he decided to forego the lecture from the usual red-haired source and wait until the feast. “Ol’ Arthur isn’t much better in his attitudes.”

“Don’t get me started on that, Uncle,” Josiane stewed. A deep frown carved its furrows around her mouth. She tapped her fingers on the polished wood surface. “Can they be trusted to act kindly toward others?”

“They can, Josiane,” Merlin chimed in. “The Knights’ Code mandates that. They still recall Morgana as she was.”

“Things change, Prince Merlin,” Elaine pointed out. “Why should anyone have to suffer as my mother did? It’s unreal.”

“She has a point, my Prince,” Mithian concurred. She anticipated a response from the priestesses, the triple goddess or both shortly. “We are to live together in peace.”

“Indeed.” Rodor cleared his throat. “King Bors? Queen Morgana? It is time.”

Morgana nodded. She really had hoped not to put up with such nonsense in Whitgate. Still, when it came to Camelot’s knight—be they of the current assemblage or formerly so, she wasn’t surprised by Leon’s or Elyan’s respective actions. “Aye, King Rodor. I appreciate you dealing with the situation. Certainly a visiting monarch or delegation shouldn’t have to face such attitudes much less an attack.”

“Nay you or anyone else should not.” Rodor rubbed his chin. He had certain penalties in mind. “Magic should not be banned simply as a matter of personal prejudice. Prince Merlin, Lady Elaine and the priestesses have illustrated that fact clearly enough. So have you through your recent friendship and support since your redemption experience. Any monarch deserves the utmost respect. I would accord Meleagant that courtesy if he stood in this place. Despite his policies and outlook, he is a King. You are a friend, Queen Morgana. Therefore I value your presence. King Bors, what say you?”

King Bors looked his host in the eye. “King Rodor, I can only apologize for Count Leon. I will deal with him accordingly. 

“I would hope so.” Accolon shook his head. “Such attitudes hold us all back. Magic, as we’ve seen, can be used for good or ill much as any other weapon. It is time for everyone to see that.”

“Uther had a burr in his saddle because of Igraine’s death. He did not want to face his own mistake in that regard. In his rage, he exacted a terrible toll across the Five Kingdoms.” Morgana narrowed her eyes. “Many paid the price.”

“Nemeth still aches from the last time, Queen Morgana.” Rodor turned his glance toward Elaine. “I witnessed one daughter’s pain from the loss of her mother. I would not repeat such tragedy here.”

Elaine shuddered. She bowed her head. “Th…thank you, Sire. I appreciate that.” She clenched Lancelot’s hand in hers. 

Lancelot returned the gesture equally. “You have the support now. I would not see you harmed like that.”

“I know. Thank you.” Elaine smiled at her knight’s words. “Begging your pardon, Sire. Please continue on.”

“No pardon necessary, Lady Elaine. We have all paid enough for the prevailing attitudes. I realize that Counts Leon and Elyan have done us great service in the past. For my part, I would wish them both to apologize before our Court for their actions. They will consider the consequences of their actions,” Rodor pronounced.

“I want more than an apology,” Morgana disagreed. “Doun would relish such actions. He won’t lift a finger against Elyan for attacking me. I want Leon punished for his actions. Especially given the fact that he is still alive because of the Cup of Life, he should be more grateful. You do recall that, Merlin?”

Merlin nodded. “Aye. The Druids saved him.”

“Father, might I speak?” Prince Bors requested.

“I would hear you if King Rodor also agrees,” King Bors replied.

“Go on, Prince Bors. I would hear your counsel,” Rodor concurred.

Prince Bors gulped heavily from his own goblet. _Reluctance_ weighed on his mind. He did not want to turn on a friend and vassal. Still he understood full well the situation. “Count Leon is a valued knight and comrade at arms. Certainly he has done good for the people in many regards. Still he has grown up with the hate and attitudes prevalent in Camelot. As such, he is inclined to act out against sorcerers. Before his departure, Father made it clear that he was to restrain such impulses. He violated the peace here and Father’s instructions through his actions. We would punish a sorcerer for attacking someone in cold blood. Certainly we should deal with someone accordingly?”

“I would not have a war, my Son. I do not agree with Count Leon’s actions. I will think of suitable punishment,” King Bors declared.

“We do not want a war either,” Accolon interjected. “Still the outrage against Tintagel, Nemeth and your royal prerogative must be addressed. I will not be satisfied with mere words and breath, King Rodor. I want a precedent set.” He pulled his gauntlet off and waved it in the air. “I am prepared to challenge him.”

“Nay, Accolon,” Morgana disagreed. “I don’t want you dead at Leon’s hand. You have greater value to me than that.” She leaned back in her seat. A smirk spread across her face. “Perhaps there is a way we can make this work out to everyone’s advantage?” _Satisfaction_ gleamed in her eye. 

Merlin shuddered. From their shared time in Camelot and facing her as an adversary, he knew what that meant. He imagined grotesque displays involving ritual humiliation, drawing, quartering and long lingering deaths. 

_An example must be made, Merlin. Uther’s precedent stops now._ Morgana cleared her throat. She took a long drawn out draught from her goblet. 

“I am prepared to listen,” King Bors conceded.

“I do not want a display either. Uther would have them beheaded or worse for what they did. I could demand you exile Leon at the very least. Perhaps though we could offer him a choice?” Morgana let that hang in the air for a moment. “They could apologize as King Rodor suggests. I would add an oath to abandon such hatred and serve however necessary. Then he would serve Tintagel as our knight.”

Accolon arched an eyebrow. “Is that a wise idea? I do not want a sword potentially at our backs.”

“Morgana, with due respect, we wouldn’t want a potential situation at your court,” Mithian interjected.

Rodor shook his head. “I would not either. Still does not Count Leon have a wife in your lands, King Bors? Perhaps she could accompany him to Tintagel?”

“ _Oui._ Elise de Blois. Still her father would object to her being in effect a hostage,” King Bors pointed out.

“Count Leon brought this on himself. Perhaps he should not have attacked us?” Accolon reminded his former liege. “I would suggest if Duke Roland requires explanation, we can deliver it? If this is not suitable for him, he’d compensate Tintagel accordingly? I promise if he accepts this, Count Leon would have arrangements suitable to his rank. Despite being in our watch, Elise would be treated with kindness and consideration befitting her noble status. Count Leon could even earn privileges depending upon his behavior and service to our cause. Think what King Rodor allowed Prince Merlin to do. He granted opportunity. Prince Merlin earned his way to his rank and title. Perhaps if Count Leon is willing to do the same, there would be a similar outcome?”

Prince Bors nodded. “He has a point, Sire.”

“Indeed. I would prefer that Duke Roland not mortgage his estate over some difficulty. I would also prefer not to sanction a duel or allow Count Leon’s execution. Our nobles will be uneasy at best. I know you would give him the choice. I will instruct him to take your offer, King Accolon and Queen Morgana. Perhaps a lesson might be learned about this matter. Perhaps a new precedent will be set.”

“And without blood having to be shed or messy ransoms. Who knows? Perhaps Count Leon can make something of himself at Tintagel?” Morgana supposed. _Does that make you feel better, Merlin?_

Merlin somehow kept a straight face. He had anticipated a public trial and execution for Leon. He still worried about Elyan. And what about Elyan?

Morgana sighed. “And as for Count Elyan, he’s already in disfavor with the Emperor Doun for being here, I believe. Perhaps he might be inclined to take such an offer as well? It would allow him to bring his household here if it hasn’t been confiscated already.”

“I’ll talk to them. Maybe Lance and Percy…King Percival…can go with me? Gwen would help,” Gawain volunteered.

Rodor looked to Mithian who nodded. Then he accepted, “Aye. If it helps to keep peace then we should do so. Perhaps Lady Elaine, Princess Josiane and Prince Merlin might also accompany you?”

“Me, Sire?” Elaine wondered.

“Queen Morgana demonstrates _Mercy_ and forward thinking. She offers a positive road ahead. Perhaps you might remind them both what _Hate_ and _Prejudice_ do?” Rodor clarified.

“It would be a valuable lesson. It is a reminder to myself, King Rodor,” Josiane accepted. “Besides it’ll keep watch on Sir Gawain.”

“Don’t start, Josie,” Gawain complained.

Josiane coughed and shrugged. “Did I suggest something, Uncle? I just said to keep watch.”

“If it helps them I’ll definitely go,” Lancelot agreed. “I will be with Lady Elaine to support her.” 

“Anything to help our cause, Sire,” Merlin chimed in.

“Very well then. If we obtain an apology from both men, I will consider the matter closed where Nemeth is concerned. After that, it will be upon you, King Bors, King Accolon and Queen Morgana to work matters out. As seen by our counselors, we are happy to assist that mission as well. Go and settle the matter. I will wait for their apology,” Rodor assessed. “That will be all.”

Merlin got up slowly from his chair. He definitely wasn’t looking forward to the upcoming discussion. Still he knew it could’ve been a lot worse. In fact he was impressed by Morgana’s restraint to say the least. _That was well done, Morgana. Nicely done._

_Why thank you, Merlin! You see? I am trying to move forward. Maybe you should have more faith?_ Morgana sassed.

_He is working with you, Morgana. So are we. You have my thanks,_ Mithian chimed in on her Prince’s behalf.

_You’re welcome, Mithian. Accolon and I await word from both of them. Arthur’s cadre can’t just rummage the goddess’ rules any more. If they work with us, maybe we can show them a better way? It’s what I wanted all along._ Morgana smiled. Then she offered Rodor the royal nod. Finally she accompanied Accolon from the chamber.

_Diplomacy_ , it seemed, wasn’t in short supply after all….


	15. Dealing with Leon and Elyan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon's and Elyan's prejudice toward magic threatens to derail their discussion with Merlin, Mithian and friends.

Chapter 15   
[Leon and Elyan’s Combined Chamber—A Half Turn of the Hourglass Later]

Leon shook his head. _Disbelief_ confounded him. It was true that he distrusted Morgana. He hadn’t forgotten her past or misdeeds. He viewed her as a potential threat to Nemeth and the potential kingdoms around Tintagel. Still he couldn’t understand what had possessed him to threaten her. _Consequence_ would be dire for the attempted assault. The fact that King Bors had instructed him explicitly made it worse. He could lose everything…his titles, knighthood, his marriage and perhaps his life.

Morgana could be that vindictive after all….

_I should’ve known better. What possessed me?_ He frowned. For a brief few heartbeats, he felt as if something moved his arms and legs. He remained aware of everything. He would’ve contented himself with a few choice words and left the interchange at that. Still he couldn’t stop his hand. His fingers betrayed him with willful abandon.

“What is wrong with you both?” Gwen lectured. _Crimson_ streaked her face. “Arthur wouldn’t put up with this! What makes you think Morgana will?”

Elyan scoffed. “Morgana has wanted us dead since Morgause’s death. This is an act. Just watch. She’ll drop the act and start invading when it suits her.”

“She’s genuinely tried to reform herself, Elyan.” She rolled her eyes. “She could have you both executed!”

“And we’d deserve it.” Leon exhaled sharply. “I don’t know why this happened, Gwen. It’s like my hand moved on its own. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Knew she was using magic against us!” Elyan accused.

“She used her magic to keep this incident from becoming an assassination! She could have killed you both right there. Neither Bors nor Rodor would’ve said anything about it. She was defending Accolon and herself. The old attitudes toward magic don’t apply here! You’d better get used to that. Both of you!” she lectured.

“If it wasn’t Morgana, who then, Gwen? Merlin? One of those priestesses? How about that goddess they serve?” Elyan demanded.

“They seem to want co-existence.” She shrugged. “Haven’t we seen enough tragedy because of Uther’s hate? The Purge continues to create ill will. Look at Lady Elaine and Merlin. They’ve lost to it. Most of the victims were peace loving people. You all desecrated enough shrines and altars while at Camelot! Think about that!”

“Elyan has a point though. If someone can control my actions at a distance then I want to know who that is,” Leon argued.

“It could be that Sorceress. She’s wanted to divide us. She took Arthur away and replaced him with that thing.” She shuddered. Nausea burned in her stomach. “She can be anywhere. She tried to kill Merlin and Mithian. She almost killed Morgana. She’s allied with Meleagant, Emperor Doun and Mustafa. She’s the one trying to invade!”

“Doun would never side with a witch like that!” Denial narrowed Elyan’s eyes. “Merlin and the others are lying to you! He’s keeping the old laws!”

“Gwen, are you serious?” Leon stared at the ceiling.

“Look at what happened with Morgana! Neither of you wanted to attack her. Only that witch would want that!” She folded her arms across her chest. “Maybe if you apologize, Morgana won’t do anything rash.”

“This is Morgana we’re talking about,” Elyan pointed out. “She’ll want our heads. Emperor Doun might let her do it. Then he’ll go to war.”

“There’s your motivation, Leon. Work with us. Help us find Arthur and bring him back to Camelot. I know you have reasons to hate Morgana. Still she might pardon you both! Just apologize to her!” she implored.

At that moment, a sharp knocking came from the door. A Nemeth knight stuck his head into the door. “Prince Merlin and Princess Mithian are here!” He opened the door all of the way. 

Merlin led the others into the area. His eyes moved from Leon to Elyan and then to Gwen. He’d heard from Kilgarrah and the priestesses. He knew Rodor, Bors and Morgana needed the two visitors’ contrition. _Hope_ wanted a quick solution to this matter. _Pride_ had to be overcome. “Leon and Elyan.”

“Merlin.” Leon kneeled before the visitors.

Gwen cleared her throat and glared at her brother. 

“Princess Mithian,” Elyan greeted. He kneeled to her avoiding eye contact with Merlin.

“So not helping, Elyan,” Gawain chided. “You’ve messed the bullocks up enough as it is.”

“Don’t start, Gawain. Merlin’s probably messing with you all,” Elyan accused. 

“Elyan!!” Disbelief and Shame slackened Gwen’s jaw. “You take that back!”

Mithian bristled. Her eyes blazed. She strode toward Elyan. Her hand flashed across the expanse slapping his face hard. “HOW DARE YOU??? Prince Merlin has done NOTHING of the sort! King Rodor just argued to show you both mercy! You WILL bow to him! He has never enchanted me. He only ever sought to defend you, King Arthur and our land.”

“Some things never change,” Josiane complained.

“Josiane.” Lancelot shook her off. 

“You’re taking their side, Lancelot? Really?” Elyan complained. “You knew about him all along. Didn’t you?”

“Aye, Elyan. I did.” Lancelot smiled toward his Prince. Then he turned back to face his former comrades. “Prince Merlin did cast spells in the shadows. He didn’t do it to harm anyone. In fact we owe him our lives several times over. How many times did he sacrifice himself for Arthur without a second thought? How many times did he nearly kill himself to protect us? More times than any of us can count.” He motioned toward Josiane. “Princess Josiane has a right to feel aggrieved over her treatment in Camelot. So does Lady Elaine. So do the priestesses and the triple goddess. Still we all only seek to co-exist. Prince Merlin wants his life. Now he has it. Elyan, did Arthur not raise us from commoner status? Did we not earn what we have rather than be born into it? Prince Merlin did that as well.”

“You can say that again, Lance,” Gawain chimed in. “Quit judging because someone’s a sorcerer, Guys. Look at how they treat you. Look at what they do for you. I can’t believe that I have to be the one to help bear Morgana’s message. Bloody hell.”

“Message?” Leon clearly saw _Distaste_ and _Consternation_ on Gawain’s face. “Princess Mithian? Prince Merlin?”

Merlin cleared his throat. “Morgana has an offer for both of you. She proposes a parole arrangement.”

“You both will serve King Accolon and her at Tintagel as their knights. Your households will be brought there. Granted you will be watched closely,” Mithian clarified. 

“So our wives are hostages in effect?” Leon supposed. He looked to Elyan and then to Merlin. “And you’re going along with this?”

“Leon, we have their word that you’ll be treated fairly. Morgana could have you both killed. We had to negotiate just for this! You’re alive! She’s willing to give you both a chance! What more can you ask?” Merlin pointed out. “King Bors agrees.”

“He does?” Leon shook his head. “I’d never have expected that. Count Roland won’t.”

“Roland won’t have a choice if he doesn’t want a war,” Merlin retorted. “I don’t like seeing my friends handed over like sheep or cattle. All right? Still King Bors had to make a choice. So did we.”

“And what of my family, Merlin? If I do this, my wife will be treated like a traitor by Doun and the Imperial Court! I have to think about them,” Elyan insisted.

“Better than her being a widow. I trust arrangements can be made to get her out of Saxony if need be,” Mithian asserted. 

“More magic. Right?” Elyan rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe this!”

“It kept us alive enough times in Camelot, Elyan,” Merlin rebutted.

“We don’t have a choice, Elyan.” Leon hung his shoulders. “We have to accept Morgana’s offer. King Bors had to do what he did with me. You’re in enough trouble with Doun for helping me get Prester John here. If Morgana executes you, he’ll use that as a pretext for war. Is there a way to get our wives here?”

“Let’s see what we can do, Count Leon. Perhaps Morgana can help in that regard?” Mithian proposed. 

Leon nodded. “I will not betray King Bors or Gaul, Princess. I know I’m not in position to demand terms but….”

“Morgana herself included them in her consideration. I’m sure such matters are being worked out,” Merlin assured them. “For what it’s worth, I don’t want you as an enemy, Leon. Nor you, Elyan. Morgana is trying to reform herself. Why not help her in that effort?”

Leon shook his head. _Memoria_ recalled well his denials to serve Morgana during her usurpations of Camelot’s throne. Still _Circumstance_ had changed things. Whereas she’d illegally taken Camelot’s throne, she’d legally ascended to Tintagel’s throne. She tried to broker peaceful relations. Perhaps there was something to be said in that regard. “There is wisdom in what you suggest, Merlin. Perhaps we might all watch out for Meleagant’s witch together?”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about! About time, Leon!” Gawain pumped his fists. The smile spread across his face. 

“Elyan, what do you say?” Merlin asked. “You want that too? If you do, I can work with you.”

“Elyan, please. Just apologize!” Gwen grabbed her brother’s arm. “It’s the best deal you can hope for.”

“Queen Guinevere is correct. If Prince Merlin is willing to forgive you, I will as well. I would strongly urge you to reconsider your thinking, Count Elyan. Several people harmed by such sentiments are in this chamber. We want to stand by your side. You need to co-exist alongside us,” Mithian declared. “Don’t force me to tell King Rodor about this. You will be exiled or worse. There will be no help for your wife. I can attest that Prince Merlin only wants what’s best.”

“You know that, Elyan. I don’t want this to get worse for you,” Merlin urged.

“My faith says to forgive. I will do that. Accept Prince Merlin and Queen Morgana’s offer. Move from the darkness of the past. That witch and the tyrants are our real enemies,” Josiane urged. “You are right. There is black magic here. It is not Prince Merlin or Queen Morgana.”

“We can use all of the help we can get,” Lancelot insisted. “We’re embracing new situations. You should as well.”

“There is more than Camelot. A bloody lot more,” Gawain chimed in.

“Even if your cask time is limited?” Merlin supposed with a cheeky air.

Gawain scowled. “Sure, Your Princiness. Kick me while I’m down. I am trying to be the good diplomat.”

“Wonders will never cease, you Oaf,” Britomart teased. “You show potential, Lord Windbag. Take the offer, Good Counts. Don’t force a public display.”

“I’d listen to Brit, Guys. She does get in the occasional good word in between rants,” Gawain interjected. Mirth spread its smirk across his face.

“If we can get that help with our families, I’ll talk with Morgana,” Elyan relented. “Maybe we can do that now?”

“We can arrange that. You’ll have to apologize at the feast later. Follow us,” Mithian accepted. She nodded to Merlin. Then they left from the area.

Gwen sighed heavily. _Maybe this might work? We can hope!_ With that, she followed the others into the passage.


	16. Escort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Prester John speak before heading to the banquet.

Chapter 16 [Guest Chambers—Half of an Hourglass Turn Later]

Merlin hustled back down the passage toward the guest chambers. _Relief_ lightened his strides. 

_Tension_ eased its grip. Leon and Elyan accepted Morgana’s proposal. The apologies were satisfactorily made. The transition in feudal allegiances came easily. With Nimue’s and Freya’s aid, the two counts’ respective retinues, households and significant others shifted to Tintagel. Their wives rested in a chamber under guard. _Diplomacy_ seemed to be holding the upper hand.

_Now maybe we can all negotiate?_ Merlin rolled his eyes. He knew that the other monarchs had started to trickle into the city. He recalled some of the tense discussions and political dances around Uther’s and later Arthur’s throne chamber. Agendas crossed in there as much as lances did in the arena below. Egos bristled. He wanted to avoid that even with the relative allies coming to their table.

And, given that it was Nemeth serving as host, Rodor wanted everything to work flawlessly.

_That’s the rub. Isn’t it? Merlin frowned. Let’s just hope everyone can play nice for a couple of days._ He noted the two knights guarding the aforementioned countesses. He waved and smiled to them as he passed. Then he stopped in front of Prester John’s door. Josiane says he’s a valuable ally. Still we don’t know him all that well. He rapped on the door.

Prester John opened the door. “Ah! Prince Merlin! I trust you’ve dealt with the business at hand? I cannot believe that Counts Elyan and Leon would attack Queen Morgana like that.”

“I can’t either. Might I come in?” Merlin requested.

“But of course! I was meditating before our feast tonight. I appreciate the wine and fruit from King Rodor. Truly he is a gracious host,” Prester John expressed. “And my congratulations to you as well, Prince Merlin.”

“Thanks.” Merlin furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure for what. But thank you.”

“Why for that marvelous garden and dome! They are true masterpieces,” Prester John clarified. “I understand the goddess worked through you.”

“We all live to serve.” Merlin shrugged the compliment off. “We’re glad to have you here. I’ve heard some things about Mustafa from Princess Josiane.”

Prester John curled his lip at his adversary’s name. “Mustafa is a barbarian. He usurps authority. He crushes everything in his path like an angered bull. He has undermined everything in my part of the world. He works closely with the Emperor Alis as well. Pity about Cligés. He and Fenice seem so happy.”

“They are. King Rodor is happy to offer sanctuary,” Merlin declared. 

“As he has you? Your King is truly a man with great wisdom. These fools would deny magic its proper place here. At least we can have understanding. I heard you are the modern day Hercules,” Prester John complimented.

“I don’t understand. Who’s he?” Merlin narrowed his brow.

“Forgive me! Hercules was a half-god and son of Zeus. According to the ancient Greek myths, he accomplished twelve labors. In such ways, he proved his worthiness before the Greek pantheon. You proved yourself in much the same way. No?” Prester John clarified.

Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t go that far. I don’t do what I do for glory. I just want to help people and protect those I care about.”

“So did he. He used his enormous strength. You use magic and compassion, Prince Merlin.” Prester John bowed slightly. “I respect you for that.”

_Embarrassment_ flushed Merlin’s face. “I don’t really deserve the bow. We’re equals. In fact, I wanted to walk with you to the banquet hall for dinner. We’re almost ready. You are our honored guest.”

“Your diplomacy does you credit. So does your humility, Young Prince.” Prester John inspected himself in the looking glass once more. “I am ready. Lead on, Prince Merlin.”

Merlin nodded. He allowed his guest to walk out the chamber. Then he shut the door behind them and led them toward the stairs.


	17. Feast interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Nemeth welcomes its royal guests to an opening banquet, the Sorceress makes her presence felt....

Chapter 17 [Banquet Chamber—A Turn of the Hourglass Later]

_Sol_ settled to its rest on the western horizon. The stars twinkled in their night sky. Winds blew across Nemeth’s rooftops and over the cobbled pathways. Citizens shuttered their shops. Servants shuffled back toward their masters’ homes be it the citadel or elsewhere. The last remaining monarchs had arrived and settled into their accommodations. Now, before the next day’s discussions and deliberations, everyone anticipated a feast to remember.  
  
They just hoped it would be that for the right reasons…..

_****_

Merlin tapped a finger on the banquet table. His eyes surveyed the entire chamber. _Anxiety_ burned at his mind. Butterflies banged against the sides of his stomach. For everyone’s sake—be they sorcerer or normal mortal, priestess or monarch, he wanted everything to work out. He desired that _Fellowship_ win the gathering’s mindset. 

For everyone’s sake…Rodor’s….Mithian’s…the priestesses’…Kilgarrah and Aithusa’s…. 

Just make that everyone in general…. 

_Let the next two days go off well. We can all agree to disagree. We have to have that united front,_ he hoped to himself. 

_Can we, Young Warlock?_ Kilgarrah doubted. 

_I really don’t need this,_ Merlin complained. 

The Great Dragon sighed. _I do wish you luck in your endeavor, Merlin. Co-existence is a noble goal. I pray you can bridge the egos around you._

_We aim to please,_ Merlin jabbed back. _The King and Mithian have too much involved in this to fail. I don’t want to deal with the goddess if we do._

_Hrumph! Pretty Princess will get you to succeed!_ Aithusa chimed in. 

_At least someone has faith in us,_ Merlin insisted. 

_The young are hopeful,_ Kilgarrah chided. 

_Better than being an old crab apple,_ Aithusa rebutted. 

Merlin coughed. A smirk curled the sides of his mouth upward. 

_I can feel your satisfaction, Merlin,_ Kilgarrah told him. 

_So you can._ Merlin shrugged. He sipped from his water goblet. He beheld the rulers speaking amongst themselves. The nobles did the same. A few of the latter looked toward him and offered a slight bow. Still _Dread_ ate at him. He reached into his pocket. His fingertips slid over the glass therein. He hoped that the container in question would stay right where it was. 

_Insurance_ was a vital thing to have after all…especially with the Sorceress lurking around the fringes. 

_Can I defeat her even if I take it? What would that accomplish?_ He pondered the implications and consequences of a potential confrontation. He noted how Nemeth’s knights caught up with Percival, Leon and Elyan. He saw Rodor and Mithian speaking with Accolon and Morgana. 

“You seem troubled, Prince Merlin.” 

He looked up to see Queen Elena watching him in turn. “Queen Elena!” He almost jumped to his feet. “Sorry I was thinking.” 

“You seem as if the weight of all Britannia’s on your shoulders. I can assure you that you do not.” Elena raised her goblet in toast. “You should not have to feel so alone.” 

He exhaled sharply. He conceded that Elena would understand at least some of his burden. Being former servants and different, they understood what it meant to be set apart. They struggled with recent ascension to their recent position. “You sound like Princess Mithian.” 

“She is your partner. Of course she cares for your welfare. As a friend, I do as well. Even if you are a Prince and a sorcerer, you are extraordinary. There are those of us who support you. I remember how you stood with us in Camelot,” Elena explained. 

“I did the right thing,” he deflected. 

“I rest my case. Whatever you do, you have earned that benefit of the doubt,” Elena assured him. 

He smiled. “I appreciate that. You are doing so much in Amazonia.” He pointed toward Percival. “King Percival and Queen Blancheflor have spoken to us.” 

“They are worthy allies against that pig, Meleagant. His raiders are a constant menace. My sisters push them back. We must remain on guard against them,” Elena assessed. 

"And we will support you in that regard,” Rodor interjected as Mithian and he joined them. “Welcome back, Queen Elena.” 

“King Rodor, thank you for your hospitality. I reassured Prince Merlin. Princess Mithian, are you well?” Elena nodded to them. 

"We are. Our apologies for cutting our progress short. We had problems come up . Perhaps we might visit at another point?” Mithian apologized. 

“You are most welcome,” Elena accepted. She noticed everyone sitting down. “Perhaps we might speak further after our conference?” 

“We’ll have to show you the garden,” Merlin told her. 

“I will look forward to that.” Elena nodded to the trio. Then she headed back to her seat. 

“You see, Merlin? Even without trying to, your diplomacy makes friendships and reinforces others. Certainly you should have more faith in yourself?” Rodor told him. 

“I tell him that, Father. Try getting him to believe that however.” Mithian shot her Prince a wry look. 

Merlin blushed. He bowed his head. “Humility is its own reward, Sire.” 

“So it is.” Rodor rubbed his Son-in-Law’s shoulder. “I do not doubt you. Be confident. Appreciate what you can do. We shall do more negotiating on the morrow. For now, enjoy.” He motioned the couple toward their chairs. “Attention! Friends, take your places! As my guests, I bid you welcome to Nemeth! May our feast be to your liking!” He raised his goblet. “To you, my Friends!” 

“To you, King Rodor!” Gwen replied. She raised her own goblet in turn. 

“TO RODOR!!” The other monarchs followed Camelot’s Queen in her example. They toasted their host. Then they took their places. Their nostrils took in the pleasant scents of the meats around them. The wine flowed smoothly down their throats. Harps and rebecs serenaded their ears. 

Still _Ill-At-Ease_ nagged at Merlin. He didn’t let it show outwardly. Still _Instinct_ badgered him. Something felt off. 

_Chill_ stabbed through the chamber’s warmth. Its breeze dampened the braziers around its side. It compelled the attendees to pull their cloaks closer about themselves. 

_Merlin?_ Mithian looked to him. 

Merlin shook his head. Even if he couldn’t see or feel anything out of the ordinary, he knew when _Danger_ stalked them close at hand. _We might have trouble. Watch your father._ He met Morgana’s eyes. _Be ready._

_Merlin, it’s a chill. Rodor’s men will deal with it. Let them. I…._ Then Morgana’s eyes narrowed in turn. She stiffened. “Be on guard, Accolon.” 

“For what?” Accolon surveyed the chamber. “It’s a chill, Milady. We…." 

Then the braziers all went out. 

_Malodius_ stood quickly. He roared loudly shaking the tables and furnishings. _MERLIN!_

_I know. Mithian, get Father to safety,_ Merlin directed. 

The chamber took on a blood-red hue. Brimstone stung the eyes and noses. Mocking laughter echoed off of the granite walls. The doors slammed shut on their own accord. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Rodor demanded. He stood slowly. Anger blazed in his eyes. “KNIGHTS!” 

Gawain drew his sword. “My brothers and sisters! Take care! That witch could be anywhere! It is for us to watch over the guests.” 

“We aren’t helpless waifs. If we are to stand alongside each other, our swords should support one another’s!” King Bors retorted. He slid the blade from its scabbard. 

Merlin’s eyes glowed canary yellow. _“Nochdadh!”_

_Why not?_ The Sorceress shimmered into view. “Your magic is stronger.” _Cynicism_ glittered in her eyes. Her lips twisted into a smirk. “Not that it will do you any good!” She waved her hand. 

From the dark smoke coalescing in the corner, Ninane’s body flopped onto the stone floor. 

“How dare you break the peace? KNIGHTS!” Rodor demanded. 

“Nay! Stand down!” Morgana countermanded. She considered the intruder. “This is about magic. She’ll kill you all before you can take a step.” 

“You remember your lesson well. Pity I’ll kill you.” The Sorceress threw a fiery burst at Tintagel’s Queen. 

Morgana deflected it with little effort. “I’ve come back. I’ve grown. I’m not alone.” She fired back with a burst of her own. 

_Malodius_ swiped at the Sorceress’ side. His paws drew blood. 

Merlin’s eyes glowed again. He waved his hands. “ENOUGH!!” 

Draperies snaked around the Sorceress’ arms. The carpeting under her feet rolled enveloped her…. 

…but only for a few heartbeats…. 

Fire seared away the thick woolen bonds. The strands turned to ash. They fell away with a powdery residue. From the Sorceress’ hands, it flared forth. 

“BACK! GET BACK!” Josiane blocked some of the assault with her scimitar. 

“That’s right. Retreat. I…I have my message! You cannot spy on me. You cannot hide from me. I can be anywhere. I can take what I will!” The Sorceress braced herself against the wall. She pressed her torn robes against her side to staunch the blood. “And your rock pile cannot hold me back. Bury your dead. Soon my allies and I shall sweep over you. I will see you on your knees before the end.” She ground her teeth. With a final breath, she focused on another spell…. 

Merlin’s eyes glowed. He pointed at the assailant. 

Energy bonds bound the Sorceress’ hands and mouth. 

“Well done,” Rodor complimented. “Take her to the dungeon and post guards. We’ll deal with her in the morning.” 

“Might I suggest we take her to Avalon? The priestesses can deal with her far better than we can,” Merlin suggested. 

“They can have her when I am done. We will use her to find Arthur. Then I have charges of my own to level against her. We shall honor the fallen priestess.” Rodor frowned. “Call Priestess Freya, Merlin. I would see this noble priestess honored for her sacrifice. Queen Morgana, perhaps Prince Merlin and you can place wards and charms about the prison?” 

“I shall see to it,” Morgana agreed. “Merlin?” 

“Be careful…both of you,” Mithian urged. 

“We will.” Merlin’s lips brushed his wife’s cheek. “Be back. Gawain, Lancelot, Malodius, follow us.” With that, he led the knights and their prisoner from the chamber. 

Rodor sighed. “Forgive me, Friends. If you wish to eat, then you may have your fill. It seems we have a wake rather than a celebration. It makes our discussions tomorrow all the more important.” He sat back down in his chair. Mood weighed heavily upon his shoulders like a leaden cloak. 

Mithian, despite everyone’s thinking, didn’t share the others’ thinking. She mourned Ninane’s death of course. Still something seemed off to her. Given what the Sorceress’ capabilities were, the standoff seemed too neat and easy. Still she filed the thought away. 

_Best all paid attention to the situation at hand….._


	18. Straightening Priorities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin doubts his ability to meet his priorities after Ninane's death. Kilgarrah and Mithian set him straight.

Chapter 18 [A Turn of the Hourglass Later—Merlin/Mithian’s Chamber]

Merlin sighed. He studied his reflection in the looking glass. _Lament_ carved deep grooves in his face. He mused over the aborted banquet downstairs. He tapped his fingers on the polished wooden table’s surface. A pained sigh escaped his lips. _What will the goddess expect from us? We can’t even defend ourselves from the Sorceress._

_You did well enough, Young Warlock. The priestess, Morgana and you all tried to face her alone. Working with Morgana and Malodius insured your success,_ Kilgarrah disagreed. _Aithusa and I were right outside in need be._

Merlin nodded. _I appreciate that, Kilgarrah. At least that’s something I didn’t have to resort to. I’d rather protect both of you._

_Our duty is to stand by our brother and sister in such times. The priestess fell in battle. She performed her duty as she should have. Consider your oath as knight and Prince. Are you not sworn to do the same if need be for Rodor and Mithian?_ Kilgarrah reminded him.

_I’d do that for anyone. You know I did so for Arthur. I did it in Camelot and Ealdor. I would do it for Nemeth,_ Merlin argued.

_Indeed and sometimes you’d do so on a whim. At least you consider consequences now,_ Kilgarrah pointed out. _You have to learn the balance. At least you used restraint. You did not reveal the aging spell._

_I have to Mithian, Gawain and Britomart,_ Merlin noted.

_They can be trusted. Pick your allies carefully. Malodius can be trusted as well, Kilgarrah clarified. Just think on that._ With that, he went silent.

Merlin bowed his head. _Pick my allies? How much do I tell them?_ He recalled Mithian’s diplomatic examples. _I kept secrets from Arthur and even Gaius. Is it just a matter of black and white? When do I hold back? Did I get too aggressive in the chamber?_

_We all learn, my Prince._ Mithian slipped into the chamber and shut the door. “Are you all right?”

“I was thinking about Ninane. She was alone in Camelot. We should have been there,” he griped.

She nodded. “Aye she could have used help. Still the triple goddess sent her on a mission. She protected Gwen. She brought us information about Arthur’s situation. I wish she didn’t have to die either. Still she did what she was supposed to. She did her duty. The knights, you and I are all expected to do the same.” She folded her arms across her chest. She averted her eyes.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he insisted.

Her eyes watered. “We’re royals, Merlin. I don’t want to lose you either. Still our lives, as you said during your oath, belong to Nemeth and our subjects. Priestess Ninane’s life belonged to the triple goddess and her order.” She considered him. “Is this what concerned you before?”

“I don’t want to be torn. I’m trying to keep everything straight. I have all of these conflicting duties. I don’t want to be caught between them.” _Exasperation_ flushed his face. “The goddess and King Rodor both deserve my attention and loyalty. I don’t want to have to choose.”

“You shouldn’t have to. Father supports having the old religion on Nemeth. He accepts you for who and what you are. I accept you as sorcerer, Prince, husband and partner. Some day we will rule. You will have to embrace who you are and what you are. Hiding all of these years made you doubt yourself. Stop that! I love you, Merlin, for everything. Everything!” She pressed her lips against his. _Amor_ flowed through her and into him. When they broke it off, she added, “You better understand that.”

“I do. Thanks. I….” A loud banging on the door could be heard. “Now what?”

Galahad stuck his head. “Begging your pardon, Princess Mithian and Prince Merlin. You’d best accompany me.” He averted his eyes.

“What is it, Sir Galahad?” She shook off Merlin’s insecurity.

“You’d best see the dungeon. Follow me please,” Galahad advised. He walked back out the door.

“We’ll finish this later,” she told Merlin. Then she led them after Galahad.

What could the Sorceress do now?


	19. More Underhandedness...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin, Mithian and the knights discover that all wasn't what it seemed in the Sorceress' cell.

Chapter 19   
[Dungeon]

Lancelot inspected the cell with a careful eye. Everything seemed in place. The outer windows remained barred. The oak door remained intact. Yet an acrid char stained the far corner. The prisoner’s body had been reduced to an ashen heap. He read the message smeared in blood and ash across the wall. “WE WILL MEET SOON!”

“So much for the charms.” Gawain inspected the broken and rifled ward items. He couldn’t read the smeared runes. He noted the torn leather thongs which were supposed to hold said guards in place. “Kind of a statement against Morgana. Don’t you think?”

“These were cut from within, You Clot Pole,” Britomart pointed out. “The edges are too cleanly split to be random.”

“Morgana and Merlin performed the rituals under the High Priestess’ watch. I’m sure Freya would’ve pointed out any mistakes,” Lancelot added. 

“We had her though! Who’d want to free that wench?” Gawain complained.

“Did we?” Lancelot stooped over the remains. He allowed the ash to flow through his fingers. “This witch uses a troll to imitate Arthur. A priestess imitated Gwen. We should take care. The Sorceress can be anywhere. She can cloak herself so that nobody can sense her. This poor person was her pawn. If she can empower someone and then break through magical wards, she’s a threat.”

_Malodius_ growled in agreement. He sniffed the ash and then shook his mane.

“What’s he saying?” Lancelot wondered.

Ywain frowned. “ _Malodius_ doesn’t sense any sorcerous skill in the remains. I believe Sir Lancelot is correct.” He noticed Merlin, Mithian and Galahad enter the cell. He bowed. 

“What happened here?” Mithian demanded.

“Milady, we never had the Sorceress at all. The prisoner seems to be a pawn spelled to be like her. Someone destroyed the magical wards and killed her,” Britomart reported. 

_It is as she says, Prince Merlin, Malodius_ confirmed. _I can feel the Sorceress’ aura. This woman had very little if any magic of her own._

Merlin rolled his eyes. He shook his head. “She allowed us to think we’d captured her. She was toying with us.”

“The wards should have protected the prisoner,” Mithian assumed.

“Not if the big bad witch can possess people, Mith,” Gawain reminded her. “She can do everything else. Why not that?”

Merlin nodded. “It would be easy enough to do. The Sorceress is certainly powerful enough to do it. She’s also subtle enough in her spell casting. I’ll speak with Freya and consult my magic books.”

“In the meantime, we can give this poor soul a proper burial. Pity the body was so badly burned,” Mithian indicated. _Indignation_ burned through her over the prisoner’s fate. There would be no way to tell if he or she had been the Sorceress’ accomplice or a simple victim. 

“We’ll get on that, Milady,” Britomart concurred. She fetched a wooden bucket to clean up the ash.

For everyone, _Caution_ seemed the theme….


	20. Rodor's Malady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just before the conference, Rodor falls ill.

Chapter 20 [Next Morning—Council Chamber]

By the time _Sol_ rose the next morning, _Anxiety_ circulated through the citadel. Despite efforts to keep the peace, courtesans whispered amongst each other. Visiting rulers doubled the guards around their chambers. Knights of all kingdoms combined their numbers to patrol the area.

The situation clearly illustrated the need for cooperation…especially given what was to come….

 

****

 

Rodor mulled over the coming meeting. Sleep had eluded him. He’d walked his fortress’ ramparts. He checked on his guests. Alongside Merlin and Mithian, he’d inspected the garden anew. Through the light of Merlin’s energy ball, he pondered the good and bad of _Magic’s_ presence anew. Then, again with Merlin’s assistance, he’d visited with Freya, offered condolences and watched as Ninane’s body was sent to her final rest. He wasn’t about to ban it in a knee-jerk reaction as Uther had done. He understood well that the wielder utilized it much like a sword or horse.

_Intent_ rather than the force became the main focus to him.

Now his eyes swept across the terrain outside of his window. He watched the market stalls and wagons set up in the square. He imagined the peasants and free farmers starting in on their morning chores. He could almost feel Uncertainty lingering over the landscape much like a noxious fog. He knew his subjects and allies needed him. He also needed them. As Josiane, Prester John and Merlin had all reminded him, no man could be an island against the forces forming against them.

“Father, are you all right?” Mithian inquired.

“Hmm?” He turned to see Mithian watching him in turn. He could almost feel her concern…the same concern she’d shown since her mother’s death a decade earlier. I wish Taene had survived. Then Mithian might have had a more normal upbringing. Still things are working out in the grander design. “Aye. There is much to consider. We can’t have fear mongering this morning.”

“There will be some of that. Fortunately we can point to Merlin and Morgana’s role in defending us. Would they ban swords or armor? We have to be aware of who we can trust. Will they govern in their subjects’ interest? Will they aid us in keeping the peace or rattle their swords?” she assessed.

“Well spoken. As much as I wish it could be different, I fear you are correct.” He drained his goblet. He looked at it. “We’d best have Daphne serve something else to the others.”

“Something troubles you about it?” She noticed his hand tremble. His face paled. His shoulders sagged slightly. “Here. Let me help you to sit down.” 

“I have to be ready for this morning. I….” Numbness crept across his lower back and legs He just managed to pull on the draperies along the wall to hold himself up.

_Panic_ seized her. _MERLIN! MERLIN!_

_Mithian, what is it?_ Merlin clearly felt her emotions. _I’m with Prester John. What’s wrong?_

_It’s Father. Something’s happened! He’s not well,_ she reported.

_We’ll be right there. Just hang on! Is Britomart close by?_ he assured her.

_Why didn’t I think of that?_ “LANCELOT!”

“Milady?” Lancelot rushed to her side. His eyes went wide at Rodor’s condition. “What happened? He seemed well all evening.”

She sniffed the goblet. “The King complained about the wine in his goblet. Fetch Britomart at once. After that, track down the servant girl, Daphne.” She shook her head. 

Lancelot wanted to ask about that latest response. Still Duty drove him toward the chamber door. He opened it to find Merlin hustling toward him. “It’s Rodor! He just collapsed!”

“Collapsed?” Merlin’s breath caught in his throat. “Get Britomart to help. I’ll see what I can do!” He ran into the chamber. He practically skidded to a stop at her side. “What happened? I got here as fast as I could.” He looked over his ailing Father-in –Law.

“Merlin, the…goblet. The wine…tastes bitter. Didn’t think of it. Distr…acted,” Rodor muttered in a pained whisper. His eyes sagged.

“We’ll get you to bed, Sire.” Merlin waved. His eyes glowed. He raised the King up in the air. 

“We have the conference in under an hour’s time, Merlin! Father has to be there!” she protested.

“We have to start discussions with the other rulers. We can let King Rodor rest while we’re doing that.” Merlin shrugged. “Any decisions will be made by him of course.”

“Can’t we give him something to keep him awake for that time?” she wondered; Frustration clearly dripping from her tone.

“And risking killing him? I won’t repeat what happened to Uther here,” Merlin disagreed. “Morgana had put a counter-spell on Uther. She anticipated my efforts to heal him. When I cast my healing spell, her charm reversed it to a harmful one and magnified it tenfold. So instead of helping him, I had the opposite effect. 

“I see.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And perhaps Inaction will kill Father now? Can you determine the root of this malady?”

He sniffed the goblet. “We’ll need to get him back to the Physicians’ Chambers. This is Ronsbane. Let’s hope it’s the only goblet he drank from.” He hustled the King into the passage.

Lancelot guided Gawain and Britomart toward them. “Did you find the answer, Merlin?”

“I think it’s Ronsbane.” Merlin handed the incriminating goblet to Britomart. “What do you think?”

Britomart sniffed it and made a face. “How long has he been like this?”

“A half turn of the hourglass, I think,” Mithian declared.

“We need to hurry! Lead on, my Prince!” Britomart insisted.

Mithian shook her head as the group rushed toward the stairs. _Please, Father. You have to guide us. You have to!_


	21. Keeping to Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin deals with his doubts and frustration. Mithian helps him to marshal resolve and keep going.

Chapter 21   
[Physicians’ Chamber—Another Quarter Turn of the Hourglass]

Merlin sat at the table in the chamber’s far corner. Perspiration dampened his forehead. _Dread_ and _Worry_ numbed his brain. His eyes scanned Gaius’ former texts feverishly for a cure. _Memoria_ goaded him over his previous failure with Uther.

He wouldn’t fail Mithian as he had Arthur….no way in Hell….

He slurped on water from a wooden cup. He bit his lip. He grabbed for another tome and flipped through that one as well. Then another…and another…. _Frustration_ overwhelmed him. His hand slammed down on the chipped wood with a resounding blow. He shuddered.

“Merlin, please stop. It’s not your fault,” Mithian assured him. She wiped her father’s forehead with a cloth soaked in rosewater. She glanced at Britomart and Hunith. 

“Milady, perhaps you might…?” Britomart motioned toward the exasperated Prince. She held her hand out.

“Aye. Mother?” Mithian surrendered the cloth. 

“I can talk to the Prince. It will go in one ear and out the other. Perhaps you might let him know?” Hunith glanced at her son. “He’s afraid that it’s his failure if King Rodor dies.”

“What?” _Incredulity_ nearly choked Mithian. “Of all the….” She inhaled and exhaled a few times forcing herself to be patient. “Time to reassure him.” She shook her head. _Where does he get these notions? Could Arthur get his head out of his own arse?_ She rose slowly. “Please let us know if anything changes.”

“At once. The King is stable for now. Let’s hope the goddess can intervene,” Britomart agreed.

“Let’s hope so.” Mithian whispered a brief prayer. Then she stood slowly. “Father is going to be incapacitated though?”

“Barring a miracle. Ronsbane doesn’t kill. It keeps the exposed victim like this however.” Britomart frowned. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“I know you’ll do your best, Britomart.” Mithian sucked up her moods. She composed herself for her Warlock’s sake. She strode toward the table. “Merlin, stop.”

Merlin kept reading and searching.

Mithian huffed. She grabbed the tome away from him. “With due respect, I SAID STOP!!” 

“Mithian, we have to save your father! There’s too much at stake. We….” _Desperation_ shone brightly in his eyes. 

“And we shall, my Prince.” Mithian calmed herself. She rubbed his shoulder. “Whatever happened in Camelot, this isn’t the same thing. Morgana is on our side now. You haven’t cast any spells.” She glanced back at the sick bed. Then her gaze returned to him. “Nor should you until we get more guidance from Freya or her order.”

_She speaks sensibly, Merlin. I would listen and quit beating yourself up. For once, it is not merited,_ Kilgarrah chimed in.

_Enough, Dragon! Malodius_ chided. _Prince Merlin doesn’t deserve that. He and Princess Mithian are right. King Rodor should be directing the course of these negotiations. The agreement on magic is one that will reverse Uther’s bile and prejudice against sorcerers and magical creatures such as ourselves. Still, you do have a point…be it wrapped in unwarranted sarcasm. We shouldn’t let past failures blind us to future good. Prince Merlin is showing that experience by not casting a healing spell without due consideration to the entire situation first. Much as Morgana did with Uther, how do we know that witch didn’t set up a trap to counter his efforts or worse? We will help if we can. Meantime we will keep his dream going._

_Keep his dream going? Malodius, how? We don’t know…._ Merlin doubted.

_We know what Father wanted, Merlin. We will remain true to our course. You all deserve tolerance and moreover acceptance._ Mithian smiled. _This was done to tear our hearts out. We will not be hobbled. Father would want us to press on._

_Mithian, we can’t just push the King aside,_ Merlin protested.

_Who said anything about that? As per the coronation oath, the kingdom is bigger than any one of us. We are simply regents. I know what Father wants. I will pursue such things in his interests. I trust you to pursue the same course at my side. Our allies will support us. Have faith, my Prince. Father and Nemeth are counting on us. The future is counting on us._ Mithian looked firmly into his eyes. _Have faith._

_Doubt_ cascaded through Merlin’s brain. _Concern_ pressed as to their liege lord. As much as he wanted to press on with their aims, he respected Rodor’s prerogative. He’d come to rely on Rodor’s support and guidance in the initial stages of his political apprenticeship. Still he trusted his wife and Princess. He knew she wouldn’t simply run her father’s wishes over. On the contrary, she proposed a regency to keep their shared dream going.

“For Father and you, Merlin. I promise that’s all we do today,” Mithian proposed. She held her hand out to him.

“For Rodor and magical creatures then.” Merlin clasped her hand. He pulled her into a tight embrace. _Thank you._

_My pleasure even if a certain worrywart needs to be spurred on from time to time. Snark_ curled the Princess’ lips into a pronounced smirk. _We can trust Mother and Britomart to pursue the course. The others await us. After we concluded, we shall return here. You know my mind is always on Father._

_Of course._ Merlin squeezed her hands. His eyes gleamed warmly into hers. _I love you._

_And I you, my Prince. You grow every day…granted it’s hair by hair…but you grow,_ Mithian complimented and teased simultaneously.

_Gee thanks._ Merlin rolled his eyes. _The other rulers are waiting. Shall we?_

Mithian nodded. “Britomart, if there’s any change, can you inform us?”

“At once, Princess.” Britomart bowed to Merlin and Mithian. “Good luck with your negotiations. Lady Hunith and I will do what we can here.”

“We appreciate that,” Mithian expressed. Then she guided Merlin from the chamber.

Hunith sucked in a deep breath. “You didn’t tell them about Ronsbane’s effects.”

“Prince Merlin knows. Gaius would have taught him about that.” Britomart motioned toward the door. “Our Lady proposes to keep the ship on course. I’ve learned to trust Princess Mithian in that regard. She reveres King Rodor. Have faith.”

Hunith nodded. _For us all, I hope it’s not another tragedy!_


	22. Accord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conference goes on and the agreement hangs in the balance....

Chapter 22   
[Somewhere Else]

From her vantage point, the triple goddess watched the events unfolding in Whitgate. She frowned at being outmaneuvered (yet again) by the Sorceress’ schemes. She knew of course about Meleagant’s coalition. She’d anticipated Mustafa’s pursuit of Josiane. She knew Doun and Alis wanted Cligés dead and Fenice returned to her role as Byzantine Empress. Meleagant lusted after the whole of Britannia.

Their plans against hers… The Sorceress playing everyone….

_Emrys has to face his test. I hope he can get over his worrying and keep his head on straight!_ Nimue groused.

_I trust Merlin to do stay his course. He respects prerogative. We can work with him,_ Freya countered.

_Aye. We do not pick the time or nature of the test, my Children. Emrys’ apprenticeship would have benefited from more observation. Still, thanks to our enemies, the time is upon him._ The goddess watched Merlin and Mithian walk toward the council chamber. _That is our reality now. Morgana and Accolon are there. I would have you both in that chamber as well. Go now. I will await your return._

The two priestesses curtseyed to her. Then they disappeared in a puff of mist.

_Who is this witch that she can move in such ways?_ The goddess shook her head and continued to watch the unfolding drama. _And how will Emrys match her?_

 

 

****

 

[Council Chamber]

Morgana tapped her fingers on the polished oak table. _Impatience_ ate at her. That and _Self-Incrimination_ as well. Her eyes touched on Percival, Blancheflor, Elena, Cligés, Fenice, Prester John, King Bors, Josiane and Gwen in turn. _Merlin is being his usual ninny self. He can’t make a decision without someone telling him._

_He still remembers Uther’s death, Morgana. Perhaps you might consider your own role in that?_ the goddess chided. _Emrys hesitates before rushing in haste. Care and consideration are hallmarks of maturity. You are discovering as much. Are you not?_

Morgana’s cheeks burned. _Aye._

_Remember that, my Child. Mithian and Malodius work with Emrys. You all shall do the same. Your sister priestesses are almost there. Do your duty. Trust in Emrys to do his,_ the goddess concluded.

_Trust in Merlin to keep his course? That would be a first!_ Morgana huffed to herself.

“Are you all right?” Accolon wondered.

“Fine. Nothing of note,” Morgana insisted.

Accolon nodded even if he didn’t believe her. Still the last thing he wanted would have been a full-fledged argument in front of everyone. He heard the goddess’ directive in his mind. For the sake of the Greater Good, he remained silent.

“Merlin will be here if he can.” Gwen set her jaw firmly. “If anyone knows this agreement’s importance, it’s him.”

“Knowing my uncle and father-in-law, this is a political alliance in addition to an agreement about magic,” Cligés interjected.

“We need each other, Friends. I realize that I have only joined your numbers. Still I would put forward my support. I have need to reclaim Ethopia and free my people from Mustafa’s tyranny,” Prester John affirmed.

“And Egypt as well,” Josiane insisted.

“I will find Arthur. I’m not giving up,” Gwen vowed.

“Nor should any of us. Arthur is still my friend,” Percival agreed. He tensed at the sight of the mists billowing in the corner. “Now what?”

“Calm down.” Morgana rolled her eyes. 

Freya and Nimue stepped out of the mists and into view. 

“Greetings. On behalf of the triple goddess, thank you for your consideration,” Freya expressed. “It warms my heart to see this coalition.”

“Not everyone who should be here is, High Priestess,” Accolon declared. 

“It’s a start,” Morgana countered. “We have representation from around the inner sea. It will have to be enough for now.”

“With Doun’s threat at our eastern borders, we cannot overlook any assistance, Queen Morgana,” Bors noted.

“Not to mention Meleagant to the north. Mercia and the Amazons remain ever watchful,” Elena added.

“Cawdorian troops mass along the borders. Meleagant’s preparing for war,” Percival reported.

“Then we shall have to fight,” Gwen insisted. “I’m not going to hide and allow that troll to run Camelot into the ground in Arthur’s name.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Then I will find him with or without your help.”

“Calm yourself, Gwen. You have allies enough in that task,” Bors assured her.

“And can you stand up to Meleagant’s sorceress? She just manipulated you easily enough,” Nimue reminded them.

“Much as you did with us a decade ago, Sister?” Morgana pointed out.

Nimue coughed. “Misdirection is a wonderful thing. I hear that Morgause and you followed well enough in my footsteps in that regard, Morgana. This one—she is far more skillful than either of us. She even managed to poison Rodor right under Emrys’ and our noses.” Anger burned brightly in her eyes. “I may have considered Ninane naïve and rash in certain regards. Still she was my sister and fellow priestess. We will end this in the right way.”

“Calm yourselves,” Freya counseled. “Emotion is always a bad advisor. Best you all seek Discretion’s way.” She looked to the door.

An emerald clad knight opened it allowing Merlin and Mithian to enter. He glanced around at the gathering before closing them in again.

“My Friends, thank you for remaining. Our apologies for keeping you all waiting,” Mithian apologized.

“What word of your father, Princess?” Blancheflor asked.

Merlin cleared his throat. “Britomart and I have confirmed that King Rodor was poisoned with Ronsbane. He is being cared for.” He looked to his Princess before pressing on. “We know that he valued you all as allies. He wanted magic to be accepted. He wanted sorcerers to be safe. We can stand strongly together in the coming days.”

Mithian held up a rolled up piece of parchment. “That is what Meleagant, the Sorceress and their allies do not want. This is our path to survival and victory. We can co-exist and help each other.”

“So Rodor is still alive? Perhaps we should postpone this until he can speak for himself?” Bors suggested.

“Ronsbane induces a long term coma,” Nimue declared. “The Sorceress struck at Rodor to handicap our discussions.” She glanced at Merlin. “You aren’t one to shove aside someone in power…even when it isn’t in your best interests to keep them on the throne.”

“Father trusts us. Merlin and I are serving as regents. We have a council to help us govern. The nobles have a voice in what we do. We cannot stand still while Meleagant’s wolves run us down,” Mithian clarified. “As long as we continue what he started, I cannot see Father objecting to our course.”

Glances went back and forth from ruler to ruler. Nods bobbed their respective heads up and down. Smiles creased their lips.

Elena raised her hand. “I am ready to make my mark on that parchment. It is as we agreed?”

“It is.” Mithian unrolled it and handed it to the Amazon Queen.

Elena skimmed it. Her eyes affirmed the hostess’ words and intent. “Aye. Let it be so.” She picked up the feather quill to her right. With a dip in the gall jar and a quick scratch of the point on the vellum, she signed it. “I begin the process.”

Percival accepted the document next. He read it. Then he took the quill and signed next. Finally he dipped his seal in wax and stamped it on the vellum. He handed it to King Bors who did the same.

Morgana smiled at the document when it reached Accolon and her. “Finally. May Uther’s hate be ended. I can hope.” She scratched her signature.

“For us all, Hope is a light to better things,” Accolon agreed. He signed as well. Then he stamped their seal next to their signatures.

“So that none of us stands alone ever again,” Prester John insisted as he signed.

“And as friends, we can preserve each other’s standing,” Josiane added along with her script on the document in question.

“For you, Merlin, and our friends,” Gwen concurred. Her eyes twinkled at him as she signed next.

“Freya, would you sign on Avalon’s behalf. This is an alliance for you and your order as well,” Merlin requested.

Freya bowed her head. Thank you, Mother, for bringing about this moment with your wisdom and insight! “For the past generation, we have awaited the chance to emerge from hiding. We can practice our craft to aid and assist the kingdoms. I sign this on behalf of the triple goddess and my magical brothers and sisters. May we forge a garden where weeds would choke off life.” She signed the document. “Prince Merlin?”

“Princess Mithian’s belief kept us going. She should be next,” Merlin deferred.

Mithian raised an eyebrow. _Merlin, stop doubting yourself._

_Who’s doubting yourself? I want you to have your due. You inspire me. Why shouldn’t you get your due?_ Merlin countered.

Mithian shrugged. _Very well._ “Thank you, my Friends. On behalf of King Rodor and our common goals, I sign and seal this document.” After she’d done just that, she slid the document to her husband. “For you, my Prince. It is for you to complete. Sign it and we shall be free officially.”

Merlin nodded. “For every one of us who lived in the Purge’s shadow, it is time to step into the Light. We can be happy and contribute. We can govern and live.” He squeezed his wife’s hand. “We can love like anyone else.”

“We can love after you sign the document you mean,” Morgana teased. “Don’t keep us in suspense now.” A smirk goaded at the host.

Merlin almost snorted. His eyes nearly rolled. Still he kept his composure. “Cheekiness has its place too.” He smirked back at Morgana. Then he signed the document next to his wife’s autograph and their seal. “Master Peter?”

“Aye, Prince Merlin? I shall keep this very safe,” Peter presumed. He dusted the document with powder to dry the ink more efficiently. Then he scurried toward the archive with it.

“Now that we have our accord, it is time to move forward. Father would expect no less,” Mithian noted. 

And with that, the plans began in earnest….


	23. Brewing Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seems that something's off to both sides in Cawdor and Nemeth respectively....

Conclusion [That Evening]  
[Cawdor—Meleagant’s Castle]

Meleagant stalked through the dimly lit granite passages. He barely acknowledged the cowering servants and nobles to his left and right. _Impatience_ dogged his every step. He lusted for a quick victory. He wanted Britannia crushed under his boot.

Let the others have their world. He desired only his corner of it…..

He stopped before a locked door at the passage’s end. Dust heaped on its hinges. Cobwebs adorned its oaken surface. His lip curled at the sight of it. He began to reach into his pocket.

Hesitant shuffling of boots on the stones behind him gave him pause. 

He wheeled about to find his first minister cowering there. “This had better be good, Wolfstan!”

Wolfstan grimaced. His knees quaked. He averted his eyes. “M…my lord, all is ready for you in the main hall. The other rulers await your gl…glorious e...entrance.”

“Let them wait. And the summons has gone out?” Meleagant hissed.

“Several hours ago, my King. Your commanders will be here soon,” Wolfstan reported. Somehow he kept his teeth from chattering.

“They’d better be! I want no problems!” Meleagant spat. “Go! I will join my allies shortly.” 

Wolfstan bowed. He hustled back down the passage and toward the door at its far end.

_He knows his place at least. Spineless worm!_ Meleagant curled his lip. He produced a worn iron key from his pocket. He inserted it in the lock and turned it slowly.

The door, perhaps startled by the unlocking after so many years, groaned loudly. Its hinges creaked in protest as it inched open.

Meleagant wrinkled his nose at the dust bunnies’ assault. He grabbed a torch. He glared inside at the small chamber. For the most part, the space lay bare. In the far corner, a blue cloth hung over a rectangular object. Beside it a two foot tall chest sat all but forgotten. The despot though narrowed his eyes at the tapestry hanging above it.

The decoration had a beige background and blue trim. In its center, a chestnut haired knight posed with his sword and shield. His blue eyes sparkled even under the obscuring dust’s cover. His beard betrayed nary a strand of Age’s burden despite the years’ passage.

Meleagant frowned. “Even now, you mock me. My uncle thought your death would bring your end. He scattered your family. I knew better! I will deal with your brood. I will exterminate them in front of you like the vermin you all are.” His eyes blazed. 

“Threatening the air and dead now are we?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t you ever respect anyone’s space?”

The Sorceress shrugged. “If one wishes for respect, they should give it, Dread King. We are waiting for you.” She almost pranced about the chamber. “So this is what lies behind the old lock? Now I understand.”

“Do you?” Meleagant supposed. “Don’t strain your brain, Milady. My motives are my own.”

“As are our adversaries’ motives.” She shook her head. “I have bought you some time. You can be grateful.”

“Bought me…? You assemble our allies on the plain below. What else could you be doing?” Meleagant demanded.

“I could poison the old King Rodor. He’s not dead…at least not yet. He is in a coma of my own design. Still his daughter and the servant Prince won’t make a move without him. As such, I have hobbled the resistance to your invasion.” She considered the tapestry. “And this…this knight…he is your enemy. He was the one your uncle betrayed on the battlefield.”

“And in so doing, settled the throne for our family,” he retorted.

“Settled? You were ranting about exterminating that one’s brood just now. Are you certain it’s settled?” She rubbed her finger across her cheek. “I can think of four threats to your throne. Beware. You are mortal.”

“Is that a threat?” Meleagant supposed. 

“Nay. I have no need to wasted air and haughty threats to build my ego. Come. Mustafa and Doun await you. I will bring Alis shortly,” she dismissed. “We have your spectacle to organize.” She stopped and looked about the area. Something seemed amiss. 

“Now what?” Meleagant complained.

She shook her head. “It was nothing. Your ranting disturbs me. Come!”

_Indignation_ seared at him. You will not think so lightly of me when this is over. He spat at the depicted knight. “Soon. Soon…your pretty boy will cower at my feet.” Then he wheeled about and stalked from the chamber.

The past would soon meet the future….

 

****

 

[Nemeth—Merlin and Mithian’s Bedchamber]

Mithian pulled her stiff brush through her dark hair. Despite her previous combing from that afternoon, her chestnut locks had tangled slightly. She made a face and pulled at it. “You do have a life of your own. Don’t you?”

“Much like the rest of you?” Merlin supposed. His lips whispered across her cheek. “Allow me?”

She rolled her eyes. “You enjoyed that remark.” She surrendered the brush. “Be gentle.”

“Am I anything else?” He slid her hair through his fingers. He savored how smoothly the strands slid along. “I’ll take it slow.” He edged the brush through her hair. Occasionally his eyes would glow; his magic undoing the snarls. Then the bristles flowed through without difficulty.

“Perhaps I should have made you my valet for a while,” she teased. “You do know what I like.”

He coughed. “Is that all I can do?”

She grinned. “I believe, my Prince, you have your other uses. Still I will take what I can get.” She kissed the back of his hand. “Thank you. Any word on Father?”

“Britomart sees no change. I still wish we could find that servant girl,” he lamented.

“That girl’s long gone whoever she was. Perhaps she was even the Sorceress in disguise? We do need to take greater care, Merlin.” She considered their reflections in the looking glass atop her table. “You should hold your efforts in better regard. I know you do what you can.”

“I wish I could do more. You and the other rulers are ahead of me politically. The Sorceress is more skilled with her magic. I can’t heal the King. Maybe….” he started.

“You do more than you know, Merlin. You are my rock and strength. I just try to be the same for you. Hold firm. We will need to be strong for each other, our subjects and allies in the coming days.” She stood and took his hands in her own. “Our love, Merlin. That is what makes a difference. We need to learn and grow. In the meantime we have strengths to carry us while we address our weaknesses.” She stopped abruptly. Her eyes looked about the chamber. “Did you feel something?”

Merlin nodded. He felt a disturbance in the air. For a dozen heartbeats, he scanned their surroundings. Then, as suddenly as the sensation had started, it ceased. “What was that?”

“Perhaps a reminder to stay on task, my Prince?” She embraced him. “For now, we need our rest. The morning will be here soon enough.”

He nodded. _Fatigue_ weighed on his limbs. Besides rest did have its side benefits as well.

 

****

 

[Gwen’s Chamber]

Gwen tossed and turned in her bed. For most of that evening, she’d struggled to relax. Her heart remained heavy. _Lament_ stirred her as to her subjects’ fate. _Worry_ stabbed at her….

….for Arthur…

_Where are you? You can’t be dead! You can’t be!_ She stared at the ceiling. Despite the darkened expanse, she’d memorized practically every detail overhead. She could count every beam and wooden panel by rote. _We need your leadership. You can even make peace with Merlin and sign the agreement. You can break from your father’s example and accept magic. We can be at peace!_ She could almost imagine his ire for her signing the agreement. _We have to move on. We…_

_Gwen…. Gwen…._

“Arthur? ARTHUR!” Her ears perked at his voice. She looked about the chamber. “Arthur, I can hear you! Where?”

_Gwen, help…me…._

“Arthur, I….” Gwen blinked. Whereas none had been felt before, Sleep overwhelmed her. Her eyes sagged. She collapsed back onto the bed and fell into a trance.

Even as _Danger_ massed to the far north, _Crisis_ reared its head close to home yet again. Whatever came of this remains to be seen…..

 

THE END (for now)


End file.
